Iridescence
by ShadowsOnTheMoon
Summary: This is the story of a broken girl and the boy who falls for her.
1. Damaged

**Hi everyone! This is a new story, quite different for me. It will be multi-chapter, not sure how long, and I can't guarantee I'll update frequently. But I'll do my best, especially if I see people are interested.  
There's some backstory to this. It's AU; there's no A, and all of the characters know each other, except for Spencer, who's the new girl at school. If you want to know what her story is, you can go read my story 'Darkness', but it's not necessary to be able to understand this one.  
There's some side couples in this (MonaxNoel, HannaxCaleb, EmilyxAria), but the main focus will be SpencerxToby.  
I don't normally write Spoby stories, so let me know if I'm doing okay.  
And without further ado, here is the first chapter. Please let me know what you think; reviews make me so happy.**

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_Do you feel cold and lost in desperation?_  
_You build up hope, but failure's all you've known._  
_Remember all the sadness and frustration_  
_and let it go, let it go._  
~ Iridescent, Linkin Park

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Damaged.

That's the one word that was most frequently used to describe Toby Cavanaugh. That is, when people weren't throwing around words like 'freak' or 'murderer'. All his life he'd felt like he had to try twice as hard to be half as good as anyone else. Maybe it was a natural feeling, all part and parcel of growing up, but he had a feeling it was more than that. As he looks around at the other students in the room, he wonders how many of them have felt this way. Like nothing you do is good enough. Like everyone looks down on you. Like you could do everything perfectly and people would still find some fault in it.

Not that he has ever been perfect. He's far from it, and he knows. He's got more than his share of baggage, most of which he's never told anyone about, and a lot of which could tarnish his already trashed reputation. He doesn't need more accusing glares, more questions he can't answer and flaws he can't hide.

Normally he tries to keep his thoughts under control; he knows what it's like to let them run rampant in his mind, and he can't afford that kind of mess right now. He taps his pencil against the edge of the desk, agitated; these thoughts and this stress aren't good for him.

"How are you doing?"

The voice next to him makes him jump. The pencil falls to the floor and he bends down to pick it up, internally grumbling. He has a feeling today is not going to be a good day. He straightens up, snaps the pencil in half, and turns to face the speaker. His best friend, Caleb Rivers, is sliding into the seat beside him.

"I've been better," Toby replies. "You?"

"I'm good." Caleb takes out his book and opens to a random page in an attempt to look busy when the teacher comes in.

"Caleb, we have a test today," Toby reminds him.

He frowns, trying to remember, and then he sighs and puts his textbook back in his bag. "And suddenly I'm not so good."

Toby laughs as Caleb slumps back down in his seat, looking dejected. This doesn't last long, because a moment later a stylish blonde girl walks into the room and Caleb's face lights up. He gets up to greet her, running a hand through her hair and gazing at her like he hasn't seen her in months.

"Hey babe," he croons, leaning towards her.

She leans forward and kisses him, and when they pull away she smiles at Toby; he waves in greeting and then politely looks away as they go at it again. When the teacher comes in Caleb and Hanna, the blonde, take their seats beside each other, and Toby watches as the rest of the class files in. Emily nods her head in greeting as she walks through the door hand-in-hand with her girlfriend; Toby smiles in response, watching them sit down on the other side of the room. Emily had gone through a rough break-up a few months ago, and it's nice seeing her happy again.

The last student through the door is a slim raven-haired girl whose eyes are brimming with secrets she's just dying to spill. She sits down beside Hanna, tossing her hair back over her shoulder and grinning. "Hi Caleb, Toby," she says.

"Mona," Toby greets her; it's a good thing there wasn't more he wanted to say, because she quickly turns to Hanna, lowers her voice, and starts talking about something that Toby can't quite hear.

The teacher arrives a moment later, setting up his briefcase on the desk and pulling out a pile of papers. A sort of inaudible groan radiates through the room; even Mona, who's one of the top students in the class, seems displeased at having to do a test. The teacher gestures to the nearest student and asks them to hand out the tests, which they do with obvious reluctance.

Toby leans back in his chair, fiddling absently with his pen and already wishing the day was over. He has a test now, and next period he has to give a presentation – a group presentation, no less – and he's pretty sure no one in his group is prepared for it. He suppresses a sigh and turns to Caleb to ask if he's done any work for the presentation, but the words die in his throat as one last student walks through the door.

His first thought is that she's the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. His second thought is that she would never look twice at a guy like him. And his third is that he's now been staring at her for almost a minute, at which point he lowers his gaze and pretends to read the graffiti on the desk. Out of the corner of his eyes he can see the girl approach the teacher, hand him a piece of paper, nod as he asks her a question. Then she hoists her bag further up on her shoulder, smiles at the teacher, and makes her way to one of the many spare desks in the room (it was actually a full class, but on test days the population dropped to about three-quarters, maximum).

She's two rows ahead of him, but the desk in between is empty. As she goes to sit down he raises his eyes and feels daring enough to sneak another look at her. She has coffee-colored eyes, long brown hair, and a haunted look about her. As she pulls a pen out of her bag and sets it neatly at the top of her desk, perfectly parallel to the edge, he notices that her hands are shaking. She sits up straight, eyes locked on the board at the front of the class, ignoring all the whispers shooting around the room. They haven't had a new kid in a long time, so she'll be news until the next scandal sweeps the school.

Toby is still looking at her when the teacher taps his pen on the board to get everyone's attention. "You have one hour to complete this test. Phones off, eyes forward. Good luck everyone."

Everyone gets to work, some more reluctantly than others, but Toby watches as the teacher walks down the room, stopping at the new girl's desk. He bends down and says something quietly to her; she nods, then pulls a novel out of her bag and starts reading. She's exempt from the test, although she's probably not the only one in the room who doesn't have a clue about the content.

After a few minutes Toby manages to jerk his attention away from her and focus on his test, which, thankfully, is all multiple choice. He runs out of time and has to guess the last few, but as he hands the test in and leaves the room he's reasonably confident that he at least passed, and that's all he needs in order to graduate.

Out in the hall he falls into step beside Caleb, who snakes his hand around Hanna's waist, while Mona rolls her eyes behind their back. Hanna stands on her tiptoes to kiss Caleb again, and Toby takes that as his cue to step back. They've been dating for almost a year now, and they still can't keep their hands off each other. While the very closeted hopeless romantic in him finds it cute, most of him is just uncomfortable. He walks beside Mona, who is just as over their PDA.

"Did you see the new girl?" Mona asks, producing a nail file from her purse and touching up her already-perfect manicure.

"I saw her," Toby replies. He's not sure why, but the thought of her makes his heartbeat quicken. He hasn't felt this way in a long time; he wants to get to know her, even though part of him knows that he'll probably be too scared to actually talk to her. "What's her story?"

Mona stretches her hands out in front of her and admires her nails, which shimmer in the artificially bright light. "You haven't heard?"

He shakes his head, knowing that Mona will be thrilled at the chance to share gossip with him. She loves being the first to know anything, and more than that she loves everyone _knowing_ that she was the first to know it.

"They say it's a tragic story," she says, "although nobody knows the full details."

"What do they know?"

"Well." Mona stops at her locker and Toby comes to a halt too; Caleb and Hanna carry on, too caught up in each other to care much about anyone else. After Mona puts her textbook in her locker she leans against the wall and gives a dramatic sigh. "They say she was kidnapped. Held hostage by some psychopath. Somehow she escaped and she hasn't said a word since."

Toby is not a talkative person. He expresses himself in the silence, through his eyes and his face and his very being. And now he falls into a contemplative silence, feeling his heart break for this girl he has yet to meet. He can't even begin to imagine the horrors she's been through, and he knows he would never be able to help. He can't even muster up the courage to talk to her.

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	2. Confrontation

**Wow, thank you for the reviews, everyone! Special shoutouts to insertnameherex, KooshGID, and RinShade, who reviewed both this story and 'Darkness'. Thanks guys. And in answer to your question, TeamSpobia167, yes, Mona's good in this; there's no A-Team so no actually evil characters - Mona is just one of Hanna's, and by extension Toby's, friends.  
Also, confession: I actually adore Wren. He had to be the villain in this story because it didn't make sense any other way, but try to keep the Wren-bashing in the reviews to a minimum, everyone. ;)  
So here's the next chapter. Let me know what you think!**

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The next time he sees her is two days later, in the same class. He sits in his usual seat, Caleb beside him and Hanna and Mona further down the row. Toby has been trying not to think about _her_, but he can't get her face out of his mind. Rumors have been spreading like wildfire around the school, and for once he makes an effort to listen; but it's all so jumbled and confused that he can't make any sense of it. Everyone has theories about her, and since she refuses to talk there's no way to dispel or prove any of them. All they know for sure is that her name is Spencer Hastings, her family's from Philadelphia, and she's gone through something unspeakably awful.

There is one other thing he knows about her. He knows that whenever he tries to approach her his legs get wobbly and his hands shake, and this bothers him. Despite his friendship with Caleb and the girls, he's not that interested in human company. He's a loner, and he likes it that way. So why does he get excited – in a terrified, trembling sort of way – at the thought of talking to her? She has some kind of power over him, even though they've never even met, and it both irritates and intrigues him.

At the end of class he gathers his nerves and walks up to her, but before he can so much as open his mouth someone bumps into him from behind and he goes toppling forward, crashing into her and causing her to drop all her books. The person behind him sniggers and keeps walking, and Toby rights himself, flushed.

"I'm so sorry," he stammers, reaching down to pick up her books.

She bends down too, but doesn't acknowledge his apology. She just snatches up her books, gives him a sort of panicked look, and then flees from the room. He stares after her, unsure what just happened. But then he shakes himself out of his reverie and heads out the door.

He reaches his chemistry class just a minute before the teacher, who gives him a disapproving glare as he slides into his seat beside Emily.

"You're late," she comments as she pulls out her book.

"I know." He doesn't offer any more explanation, and she doesn't ask.

As they start taking down notes that the teacher is feverishly scribbling on the board (he's under the mistaken impression that students are actually interested in his subject), Emily leans over and writes on the edge of Toby's paper.

_Are you free this Friday?_

He pauses, then writes back.

_Depends who's asking._

She reads the message, then looks up at him and rolls her eyes. She glances at the teacher, considers whispering, and then decides that writing is safer. She's already had a couple of run-ins with the principal this year; any more and she may risk being removed from the swim team.

_There's a party at Noel's cabin. Aria and I are going. Do you want to come?_

He's not a social person by nature, but whenever Emily bats her eyelashes he finds that his willpower drains away and he almost wants to talk to people, just to see her smile.

_I'll be there._

She beams at this response, and then starts doodling on his page. By the end of the class she's drawn a surprisingly accurate (but wildly inappropriate) sketch of their teacher, an anime-style kitten with ridiculously wide eyes, and a picture of what Toby would look like if he was a rockstar (this last picture she replicates for his birthday later that year and hangs up inside his locker, much to his chagrin).

At lunch he is uncharacteristically quiet. He sits with his friends, but everyone is too distracted to notice that he's not himself. Hanna and Caleb are deep in conversation, talking so low he can't quite hear. Noel, Mona's current love interest, is leaning against the edge of the table, while she flips her hair and laughs at all his jokes. Toby doesn't say a word beyond greeting all of them; he just sits down and picks at his food.

A few minutes after he arrives, a murmur sweeps across the cafeteria. He glances up, wondering what's happening, and for a moment he can't see the source of the commotion. But then the crowd parts and he sees her. Spencer.

She's standing in the doorway, looking uncertain. She's holding her tray so tightly her hands are shaking with the effort. In front of her is a group of boys from their grade, and before Toby even has time for anything more than a flicker of unease, one of these boys reaches out and very deliberately knocks Spencer's tray to the floor. The contents, which had been neatly stacked and organized, topple to the ground and scatter at her feet.

Without thinking, Toby jumps to his feet and, ignoring Mona's cry of 'Where are you going?', marches over to the group. A few people step out of his way, well aware of his reputation and unwilling to incite a confrontation, but the main guy, Chris, doesn't even blink.

"Go back where you came from, slut," Chris says to Spencer.

Toby inserts himself in between them, using his body as a shield in case Chris tries to touch her. For a tense moment nobody moves.

"What do you want, freak?" Chris laughs, like he's said something witty, and his group laughs along with him, although some of them look less than thrilled.

"I want you to leave her alone." Toby's voice is close to a growl, and it makes Chris stiffen. Toby doesn't normally talk to people much, and very few people have seen this side of him. He can be very intimidating when he wants to; add his impressive physical presence to his reputation, however untrue, and most people take a step back when he looks them in the eye.

Chris stands his ground, but he looks a little less sure of himself.

"You don't want to get into this with me," Toby warns. "Walk away."

The crowd, who up until now have been silent, being to talk amongst themselves. Some even take bets on who they think will back down; most people assume it's going to be Toby, but a few brave souls put their money on Chris.

An eternity passes. Toby can sense Spencer behind him, and he can faintly hear her sniffling. He wonders if she's crying, but he doesn't look back. He needs to keep his eyes on Chris, or he may not be able to bluff his way out of it.

Finally Chris relents. He passes it off as being bored, but everybody knows that this is, for all intents and purposes, a defeat. "Let's go," he mutters to his friends, "this place is lame."

They stalk out of the cafeteria, leaving a stunned silence in their wake. Toby notices that a few people are looking at him with new respect, while others' eyes are filled with fear. He doesn't really care either way. He just needs to know Spencer's safe. But when he turns around to ask her if she's okay, she's already gone.

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**The next chapter will be up as soon as I have some time to write it, so stay tuned. And just a hint, I'm motivated by reviews. ;)**


	3. Party

**Wow. Just wow. I have never had such a strong reaction to a story before; I was actually overwhelmed by it. You Spoby fans are absolutely amazing. Normally I try to individually respond to every person who reviews my stories, but there are just wayy too many here (although I may well PM a couple of you who asked questions). So let me just say that I read every single review, and each one meant so much to me, so thank you so so much. In fact they meant so much to me that instead of studying for my exam like I should be, I was inspired to write the next chapter. Please let me know what you think. Something pretty big is going to happen next chapter, so I'll try to update as soon as possible. Thank you again for the reviews, and see you next chapter!**

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If Toby had been like most of the other boys his age, he would have spent the day planning the best way to pick up girls at Noel's party, or taking bets on who was going to get the most wasted, or coming up with elaborate lies to tell his parents so he'd be allowed to be out after dark. But he wasn't like them, and in fact he's forgotten that he's even going to the party. He's spent the day in his garage, working on his latest project: building a rocking chair from scratch based on designs he found in one of his grandfather's old workbooks. Technically he should have been at school, but he doesn't mind skipping a day here or there if the mood takes him – which it often does. It's not like anyone is here to notice when he skips school anyway.

He's taking a break, sorting through his tools absentmindedly and drinking a soda, when his cell goes off. It takes him a while to locate it; that morning when inspiration hit he'd been too excited to pay much attention to anything other than his work, and he'd tossed his phone somewhere in his haste to get started. He was like that, when it came to carpentry. It was his passion, his driving force, and even if inspiration came in the middle of the night or the middle of school, he'd drop everything and get to work. If he tried to ignore the urge to create, to design, to work, he'd start fidgeting and fiddling, his fingers itching to get started, until finally Caleb would raise his eyebrows and say 'Toby, just go to your workshop already'. Caleb was the only one he was actually close enough to for them to be able to understand how passionate he was.

He locates his cell – it's under one of the benches, on a pile of dusty rags – and reads the message.

**Where r u? – Emily**

For a moment he's puzzled, and then he groans. Noel's party. He checks the time and realizes he was meant to be there an hour ago. He considers telling Emily that he can't go after all, but just the thought of upsetting her is enough to deter him. Still, it's not quite enough to prompt him to change his clothes, or to put any haste into his effort to get there.

Twenty minutes later he pulls up outside of Noel's cabin. The party is in full swing, all bright lights and high spirits. He doesn't recognize many of the people, but that doesn't surprise him; Noel is one of the most popular kids in school, and any party he throws with under a hundred people turning up is what he deems 'a disgraceful failure'. Toby hasn't had much to do with him, but he seems nice enough. Mona certainly likes him, although whether that's a strike against him or a point in his favor, Toby's not sure.

It's easy to pick out the people he knows here, but harder to find any he actually wants to talk to. He's done almost a couple lap of the entire party, which extends all through the cabin and even into the surrounding land, before he finally catches sight of Emily over by the drinks table. She's already smiling, laughing at something the girl next to her has said, but her smile widens when she sees Toby.

"You came!" she exclaims happily, throwing her arms around his neck and splashing some sort of liquid down his shirt in the process.

He returns the hug and then steps back, trying to wipe the alcohol off his shirt. It smells faintly like coconut, and isn't altogether unpleasant.

"Oh god, I'm sorry," Emily says, trying to wipe it off with the sleeve of her jacket. This only serves to spread the stain further, and after a half-hearted effort she gives up trying and starts laughing instead. "I'm really sorry, I just -"

"It's fine, Emily," he assures her, more amused than annoyed. She's not quite drunk, but she's definitely not sober. He makes a note to keep an eye on her – sometimes she doesn't know when to stop, and it's been known to get her into trouble – as he helps himself to a cup of the punch. He doesn't know if it's alcoholic or not, although he assumes it is; it doesn't bother him either way, since the only reason he's here is because Emily asked him to come.

Emily turns back to the ground of friends she was talking to, and Toby stays where he is, unsure what to do. His gaze drifts around the party, and he sees a few people he might go and say hello to later. Hanna and Mona are over by hot tub, the former frowning over her cell and the later practically drooling over Noel, who's doing shots with a group of guys Toby doesn't know. A little way away are Lucas and Holden, with whom Toby is on relatively friendly terms, and behind them are a few of the girls on the swim team; he can't recall their names, but he knows Emily has introduced them to him before.

He's about to go over to Lucas and Holden when he notices a lone figure on the edge of the trees. She's sitting on a wooden bench, head tilted to the side as she watches the goings-on, and he can't tell if she's bored or amused. She's the only one by herself, which makes him curious at once, and then she looks up and his heart skips a beat as he sees who it is.

"Emily," he says, tugging at her sleeve, "what's she doing here?"

"Hm?" Emily says, turning around and following his gaze. She blinks, trying to see who he's looking at, and then says, "Who, the new girl? I invited her."

That doesn't surprise him. Emily always goes out of her way to make everyone feel welcome, so reaching out with an invitation isn't out of character. What does surprise him is the fact that Spencer would actually accept the invitation. She hadn't seemed like she was interested in much social interaction, and her behavior now doesn't really suggest she's a social butterfly. So what is she doing here?

"Come on, I'll introduce you," Emily offers, grabbing Toby's arm and pulling him forward.

"What?" He stops and yanks his arm away. She wants him to talk to her? What is he supposed to say? 'Hi, I'm Toby, Rosewood's black sheep, feel free to hate me because most other people do'?

Emily keeps going, but she stumbles after a few paces. Automatically he darts forward and catches her, and before he knows it she's grabbing his hand and dragging him over to the wooden bench. They come to a stop in front of Spencer, who looks up at them with polite puzzlement.

"Hi Spencer," Emily chirps. "I'd like you to meet someone."

She pushes Toby forward. He stands in silence for a few seconds, trying to gather his courage, but Emily talks before he has a chance.

"This is my friend Toby. Have you guys met?"

Spencer shakes her head, and Toby tries to read her expression. She doesn't exactly look thrilled, but she's not upset either. She's… _wary_, is the best way he can think to put it.

"Great!" Emily beams. "Why don't you two -"

She's interrupted by the arrival of what Toby refers to as her 'personal firecracker': Aria Montgomery, a bundle of energy with a temper like fire.

"Hi!" Aria says cheerfully, slipping her hand into Emily's and smiling at all of them. She whispers something into Emily's ear, which makes her giggle.

"I have to go now," Emily says, evidently intrigued by whatever it is that Aria suggested. She runs a hand through the smaller girl's hair, twirling the ends of it around her finger. Then she turns back to Toby and Spencer. "You guys play nice, okay?"

Toby opens his mouth to tell her not to go, to ask what the heck he's meant to do now, but Emily and Aria are already skipping off, too lost in their bliss to spare a thought for him and his predicament. Once they're gone it becomes unbearably silent, but for the life of him he can't think of a single thing to say. Eventually he settles for a smile, which Spencer returns warily.

"Mind if I sit here?" he asks after another awkward silence, gesturing to the bench.

She shrugs, but slides over to make room for him. He sits down beside her, clasping his hands and looking at the ground. He's sitting here, beside the girl he's been thinking about for days. He could talk to her. He's close enough to touch her, although he knows he won't. Anxiety bubbles up in him, becoming a river that washes away any coherent sentences and most of his vocabulary. Still, he's here, with Spencer.

He's not sure whether this is a dream come true or a nightmare about to happen.

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**Hmm. What do you think is going to happen?**


	4. Instinct

**What up, Spoby fans. Thanks for the awesome response last chapter! You guys are the best. This is my first Spoby story, so I'm definitely open to criticism - if you think I'm portraying someone incorrectly, approaching something in a way I shouldn't be, etc, feel free to (respectfully) leave your opinion in a review. Constructive criticism won't make me upload any slower or love you guys any less. ;) Also, I haven't fully planned this story and I'm not writing in advance, so if you guys have anything you want me to include, any characters, scenes, quotes, ideas, etc, just let me know and I'll see what I can do. I'm kind of winging it here, so any suggestions are appreciated.**

**On a similar note, if any of you are waiting for S is for Salvation, would you mind going over to my profile and taking part in the poll? I'm still trying to decide on the format, so the sooner I sort that out the sooner I can finish writing and - you guessed it - start publishing.**

**Anyway. Here's the next chapter. Enjoy, and don't forget to review. :)**

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The silence has stretched on for an unbearably long time. Toby keeps looking around for Emily, who's much better with social situations than she is, but at the moment she's probably in some shadowy corner with Aria. He turns to Spencer, opening his mouth, but the words die in his throat and he turns away again without saying anything. Another few minutes slip by, during which Toby stares resolutely at the ground and Spencer fiddles with her nearly empty cup. Finally Toby turns back to her and says, "So, are you, um, having a good time?"

By no means is this brilliant, but he hopes it's better than silence. Spencer's eyes flick up to his, startled. He wonders if she's just surprised he's finally spoken, or if she'd actually forgotten he was there. There's something distant about her; even when she meets his eyes, he doesn't feel like she's really looking at him. It's like she's looking through him, and it makes him suddenly self-conscious. She shrugs, as much of an answer as he was expecting, and looks away again.

"I wasn't actually going to come tonight," he offers. She doesn't look at him, but she shifts her body slightly towards him, indicating that she's listening. "But Emily asked me to come, and I didn't want to let her down."

Spencer doesn't respond, but he hadn't expected her to. Yet she's still sitting here, and she makes no move to leave. He takes that as a good sign, even though her very presence is enough to make his hands tremble. He leans back, watching a group of girls on the grass a few yards away attempt to make a human pyramid. They fail miserably, collapsing on the ground in a heap of giggles, and he chuckles. There's a sound to his left, and when he turns to look he sees that Spencer, too, is laughing. She catches him looking and stops abruptly, as if she's ashamed at having expressed even such a simple emotion as amusement.

They fall into silence again, but some of the awkwardness has been broken by the shared moment of mirth. After a while he asks tentatively, almost scared to hear the answer, "Do you – do you want me to leave?"

She considers this for one heart-pounding moment. If she wants him to leave, he will; but he'll wish he hadn't, and he'll wonder what about him was so repulsive that she didn't want him to stay. Then, slowly, she shakes her head.

He feels a rush of warmth, which he quickly tries to quell. He doesn't know this girl. She hasn't even spoken a word to him. What should it matter if she wants him to leave? She doesn't seem like she's looking for a friend, and he can't guarantee he'd be a good one anyway. Given his track record, maybe it would be better if he just left her alone. But something compels him to stay – and if she has no problem with his presence, why should he leave?

Toby feels a need to fill the silence, and he tries desperately to come up with a topic. He tucks his hands into his pockets, and feels his fingers brush up against something. When he withdraws his hand he's holding a small piece of wood. He flips it over in his hand, feeling the rough edges, the uneven surface, and remembers the day he got it.

Spencer is looking at him curiously, and she even raises an eyebrow. He's tempted to tell her the story behind it, but it's something he's never told anyone, and he doesn't feel comfortable revealing it to someone he's known for less than a week. He tucks it back into his pocket and says instead, "I'm really into carpentry. At the moment I'm working on making a rocking chair. I found some designs in one of my grandfather's old workbooks – he was a carpenter too – and I've been adapting them to suit the timber I'm using, it's -"

He stops talking, aware that he's rambling. He's probably making himself look like a fool. Why would Spencer care about his carpentry? But out of the corner of his eye he sees her looking at him, and the expression on her face – well, if he hadn't known better, he'd have thought it was a smile.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles. "I don't normally talk so much."

She turns to him, and now he knows she's smiling. He's not sure why, but it's encouraging, and it's one of the most beautiful things he's ever seen. Maybe she's really interested, or maybe she's just being polite. Either way, he'll take it.

"I'm going to go get another drink," he says cautiously. He's worried that if he leaves this whole scene will dissipate and he'll come back to empty space. Spencer is too good to be true, and this moment feels too good to be happening. But he doesn't want to crowd her. "Do you – would you like one?"

She shakes her head, staring down at her empty cup. He nods in response, getting to his feet. He takes a few steps, and then he turns back.

"Would it… would it be okay if I came back afterwards?" he asks.

Her smile fades a little, like she's surprised, but she doesn't seem upset. She nods, and he feels his heart soar. As he walks over to the drinks table he gives the logical side of his brain free rein. Spencer doesn't loathe his company, but that doesn't mean she wants to be his friend. He shouldn't read so much into everything; he should back off, relax, and just let things happen.

But as he walks back to where Spencer is sitting, logic takes an immediate backseat. Sitting beside her is none other than Chris, the creep who'd harassed her at school the other day. His stomach lurches and the drink falls from his hand. He clenches his fist and walks over to them, using all his self-control in an effort not to punch Chris right away.

"Chris." His voice is nothing more than a growl, and it makes Chris jerk his head up to look at him.

"Hey Toby," Chris slurs, even as he edges closer to Spencer. "Having a good night?"

Toby doesn't answer. "What are you doing?"

Spencer shifts away from Chris, stiffening. It's clear she's uncomfortable, but Toby isn't sure whether Chris doesn't notice or doesn't care. Chris stands up, and Toby forces himself not to take a step back. The other guy is bigger than he is, but he's also more intoxicated. Toby could take him if it came to it, although he'd prefer to avoid that; despite his reputation, he's not quick to jump to violence.

"Chill, bro," Chris says. "I'm not doing anything wrong."

"I am _not_ your bro." Toby glares at him, and over his shoulder he can see Spencer stand up. He tries to keep Chris distracted long enough for her to leave. "Chris, just clear off, okay? Go get drunk with your football buddies or something. You're not welcome over here."

"Lighten up." Chris turns back to Spencer, who's only managed to make it a few paces away. She freezes, like a rabbit caught in the headlights. "She wants me here. Don't you?"

Her eyes flicker between them; she looks trapped, scared, almost like she's about to cry. She tries to take another step, but Chris' hand shoots out and he grabs her arm. The action makes her jump, and a second later a tear trickles down her cheek. She's shaking so much she doesn't even try to brush it away.

"Spencer," Toby says, hardly even aware that it's the first time he's said her name. "Do you want him here?"

She shakes her head, nervously at first and then more vigorously as his grip on her arm tightens.

"Great." Toby doesn't give himself time to think about the implications or the consequences. He just acts on instinct; it's all he's got going for him at the moment.

His fist flies out and connects with Chris' face. There's a strange time delay, catching them all in a tableau: Toby looking surprised with himself, Chris realizing what's happening, Spencer's eyes widening in shock. Then Chris crumples, dropping to the ground and covering his face with his hands and letting out a low moan. A crowd begins to gather, drunkenly amused at the commotion, although most of them have no idea what's happened. A couple of people even cheer; Toby isn't sure whether they think Chris finally got what they deserved or they're hoping to see a fist-fight.

"Stay away from her," Toby says firmly. Chris doesn't move his hands; his reply is muffled, but it sounds like a reluctant agreement.

Toby knows he's gone too far. He has no right to be so protective of someone he doesn't know, and his burst of violence has probably startled Spencer. He doesn't look at her as he says, "You should probably get out of here."

He turns to leave, walking away from the mess he's just created. He's only gone a few steps when he hears someone following him, and before he can register what's going on Spencer's come up beside him and his feet have come to a stop apparently of their own accord.

For a long moment neither of them does anything. Spencer's eyes dart back to Chris, who is still lying in a heap on the ground. Nobody has made a move to help him. Then her attention turns back to Toby, and she opens her mouth.

She clears her throat, nervously licks her lips, and then, in a voice hoarse from lack of use, she says the first words she's said in two years.

"Thank you."

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	5. Spell

**Oh my goodness, I don't even know what to say. Over fifty reviews already?! You guys are incredible. I hope you enjoy this next chapter (and sorry it's on the short side). As always, follow, favorite, review, whatever, to let me know you're liking it. And feel free to throw suggestions my way; as I've said before I haven't entirely planned this/prewritten it, so I can take your ideas into account. And I'm always open to constructive criticism, so don't be scared to tell me if there's things you didn't like/think I could do better. Thanks, and see you all next chapter.**

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As surprised as Toby is, Spencer is even more so. Her eyes fly open as if she's startled herself, and she stares at the ground at Toby's feet, like she's picturing her words landing there and expecting him to trample on them. Then, before Toby can so much as move a muscle, Spencer turns around and walks off, her hair bouncing around her shoulders and her step quick but uneven, like she's trying not to lose her footing.

"Wait!" he calls, beginning to race after her. She starts, and he realizes his mistake: she's skittish as it is, without having to worry about some strange guy chasing her. He slows his steps and says more softly, "Wait, please."

She doesn't slow down until she's gone around the cabin. When he turns the corner she's leaning against the wall, pressing her fist to her mouth and looking like she's trying not to cry.

"Hey," he says gently, coming to a stop a few feet away from her. He knows better than to touch her, but he wishes desperately that he could hug her. That's a strange thought; the last person he hugged was his stepmother, and that was due to very special circumstances. "What's wrong?"

She looks up and then away again quickly, like she's scared of meeting his eyes.

"What happened back there -" he gestures towards where Chris is presumably still crumpled on the ground "- I'm sorry about that. I shouldn't have done it."

She sniffles a little, then dabs at her eyes with the corner of her sleeve. "No," she agrees quietly, without looking at him, "you shouldn't have."

He's startled into stillness at hearing her speak again. Even his heartbeat seems to slow down, and he's terrified to even breathe for fear of making her take off again. He thinks of her like a butterfly, ready to take flight at the slightest disturbance.

She turns to him, and his barely-beating heart starts going double-time. She's still not quite meeting his eyes, but somehow she seems just a little less distant. "But I'm glad you did."

It takes more time than it should for this comment to register. He's thrown off by the way the light is dancing on her face, by the way her eyelashes are fluttering, by the way she's angling her body just a little bit more towards him.

"You – you are?" he says when the words finally connect in his brain.

"Yeah." She looks like she wants to say more, but she falls again into silence.

Toby covers the distance between them, watching her reaction in case he should startle her, and leans back against the wall beside her. He's close enough to touch her, close enough to smell her perfume, and it's all he can do to keep himself still. He lets a few beats of silence pass before he speaks.

"I was surprised to see you here," he says. "Not that I'm not happy you came. I just mean… I didn't really think this was your scene."

"It's not," she admits. She lets her gaze drift across the lake, the moonlight reflecting in her eyes. Then she lets out a small laugh. "My mom actually talked me into coming. She thought it would be 'beneficial to my mental wellbeing', as she puts it."

"So you didn't want to come?"

"Not at all," she says, shaking her head. "I thought it was going to be terrible."

"Has it been?" He's surprised by his daring, but it doesn't seem to faze her.

Spencer gives him a sideways look, the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. "Not entirely."

He barely has time to let the words sink in, feeling a sliver of pleasure rise up in him, before she's pulled her cell from her pocket and is letting out a sigh.

"My mom's picking me up in five minutes," she says. "I should -"

"Of course," he says quickly, watching as she begins to walk away.

He doesn't want her to leave. In fact he'd do just about anything to have her stay. He has the sudden irrational fear that tonight has been one big fluke; he feels that he'll never get this moment back, that once she walks away that will be the end of it. The spell will be broken, tonight's magic forgotten, and he may never hear her speak again.

"Thanks again," she says, pausing at the corner of the cabin.

He smiles in response, the words caught in his throat. She walks around the edge and out of sight, and he stays where he is, still caught in her spell. Then he breaks out of it and hurries around the cabin. She's a few yards away, but she stops when he calls out to her.

"I'm glad you came tonight."

She turns back to him with a smile that takes his breath away. Then she starts walking again, and within a few seconds she's lost in the crowd. But her words drift back to him on the wind.

"Me too."

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	6. Visitor

**You guys have been waiting so patiently, and here's your reward: a nice long chapter. It's light on the Spencer/Toby interaction, but I have very good reasons for that. I hope you enjoy it anyway.  
This chapter's shoutout is split two ways: to spobyfeelsdisorder, for your very constructive feedback; and to troiastings, who recommend this story and put it in a favorites list on Tumblr. But rest assured that I read every single review and appreciated all of them - you're all so lovely and the support for this story is overwhelming.  
So, here's the chapter. Let me know what you think, and I'll see you all at the next update. :)**

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Having spent the weekend working on his chair, Toby approaches school on Monday with a slightly more optimistic attitude than usual. The party on Friday night had put him in high spirits, which had been enough to keep him civil towards his father - even though he'd been determined to convince him to 'put down your damn tools for five minutes and spend some time with your old man for a change'. To other people this may have seemed like a tempting offer, but given that the last time he'd taken his father up on it they'd both ended up in the hospital, his reluctance was natural.

After Spencer had left on Friday, Toby had caught up with Emily and Aria, who'd put their make-out session on hold long enough to help him find Lucas and Holden. He'd spent a couple of hours hanging out with them, but eventually Lucas had passed out in front of the fireplace and Holden had hooked up with some girl from the swim team. Toby had been one of the first to leave, but it was still almost three by the time he got home.

He takes the steps up to the school two at a time, surprised by his sudden good mood. He doesn't have a spring in his step and he's not whistling a cheery tune, but it's as close to chipper as Toby's been known to get. Halfway down the hall Caleb comes up beside him, shoving a mess of books and paper into his backpack, which is threatening to burst apart at the seams.

"How was Noel's party?" Caleb asks brightly, slowing his pace to match Toby's.

"It was fun," Toby says, giving Caleb a sideways look. Caleb's hair is slightly messy, and there's a mark that looks like a lipstick smudge on his cheek. No wonder _he's_ in such a good mood.

"Hold up." Caleb grabs Toby's arm and pulls him to a stop, spinning him around so that they're face-to-face. "Did Toby Cavanaugh just admit to having _fun_?"

Caleb's eyes are dancing, and his tone is teasing. It's a well-known fact that Toby isn't really one for spontaneity or socializing, and even Toby himself can't remember the last time he admitted to having fun. The closest he's come is how he feels when he's working in his shed, but _fun_ doesn't seem quite the word there. It doesn't begin to describe such a burning passion, such a driving force in his life.

"I guess I did," Toby replies lightly, shrugging out of Caleb's grip and continuing down the hall. The other boy jogs to catch up with him.

"I heard a rumor," Caleb goes on as they turn the corner and head towards their lockers.

"Yeah?"

"Word on the street is that you and Chris Miller had an… altercation."

Toby shrugs, ducking around a group of freshmen who are gossiping over some vapid celebrity magazine. "For once, the rumor mill is accurate."

"Really?"

Glancing over at his friend, Toby is surprised to see that he seems more amused than suspicious.

"I heard you actually punched him," Caleb says, almost hopefully, "right in the gut."

"Don't be ridiculous," Toby says, taking a moment to enjoy the way that Caleb's face falls. "I punched him in the face."

Caleb comes to a complete stop, a look of incredulous admiration spreading across his face. He seems to be debating giving Toby a high-five, but decides against it. Instead he just grins and says, "You, my friend, are a legend."

"And _you_ are going to be late to class if you don't get a move on," Toby points out, not breaking stride.

He doesn't want to let on, but he's pleased by the attention. It's the first time in a long time that someone has looked at him with surprise that isn't mingled with disappointment or disgust, and he wants to enjoy this moment. In fact, he enjoys most of the day. Some pessimistic part of him is convinced that this is a bad sign – since when is Toby _happy_, and did he just _smile_? – but he tries not to let it get to him.

His last class of the day is the one he shares with Spencer. He hasn't seen her since Friday, and when she walks in the door he's not sure how to act. Should he speak to her? Smile at her? Pretend the party never happened? He leans back in his chair and decides to let her take the lead.

She seems a little more sure of herself, although he's not quite sure what gives him that impression. She still walks with her eyes downcast, avoiding the curious gazes of her peers, and she doesn't say a word as she takes her seat two rows ahead. But there's something ever so slightly different, and he can tell he's not the only one who's noticed. Aria, who's at the desk beside Spencer, smiles at her and even strikes up a conversation, and Spencer doesn't shy away from her. Instead she returns her smile and nods, seemingly listening to what she's saying.

"Tobes," Caleb says, dragging his attention away from the girls in front of him, "there's a group of us going bowling tonight. You in?"

He shrugs. Normally he would say no; even though he likes Caleb well enough, socializing takes precious time away from other pursuits, such as carpentry and brooding alone in his room. But Caleb has sensed that he's in a good mood today, and maybe this is his way of encouraging it. "I'll see," Toby says, as close to an agreement as he's comfortable with.

Caleb nods, satisfied, and turns back to Hanna. Toby lets his gaze wander around the room, assessing the damage from the party. Emily and Aria are as close as ever – they're sitting beside each other, doing their best to involve Spencer in their conversation – but many couples aren't so lucky. He notices that Holden has his arm around a tall brunette (her name escapes him at the moment, although it's something suitably preppy – Tiffany or Bethany or Ashley or something), and Mona is leaning against Noel's desk, twirling a strand of hair around her finger and pretending not to see the way his eyes flicker between her mouth and a place somewhat lower on her body.

But for every new romance that blossoms, an old relationship seems to have died. A group of girls by the door is glaring at Sean Ackard, who keeps his eyes forward and ignores them; Toby heard that Sean was caught making out with Susan from the swim team, when everyone knows he's dating Macey, the field hockey captain. And two guys sitting up the back keep shooting glares at a lithe blonde sitting a few rows ahead; the rumor is that she'd refused to have sex with her long-time boyfriend James Littleton, but was later found giving it up to Dan McDonald, who was a year below her and _so_ not her type.

With a start, Toby realizes what this means. He remembers all these details because, for the first time, he has actually engaged with his peers. He's listened to their stories, to the gossip he normally avoids like the plague, and he's actually taken it on board. He knows he is still distinctly different, still Other, but he feels almost like he belongs.

His epiphany is cut short as the teacher, Mr Marsters, blusters in, looking like he'd been in the middle of getting ready when he was called into work. Mr Marsters hurries over to his desk, jamming his glasses haphazardly on his nose and raking a hand through his hair. He glances up in mild surprise at the room full of students who are staring at him in silence, taking in his dishevelled appearance with apparent confusion and delight.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, guys, it's not what you think," he mumbles, pulling a book out of the top drawer of his desk and setting it in front of him. He looks up again, about to start marking the roll, but when he sees everyone still watching him he shakes his head slightly. "If you must know, the reason I look like I just got dragged through the woods by a pack of mischievous raccoons is because I just came from the hospital, where my wife is currently in labor. Any questions?"

Several students shake their heads and a few offer him congratulations. He smiles distractedly, sifting through a pile of staplers, scissors, and rubber bands until he unearths a pen.

"Sean Ackard?" he asks, tapping the pen against his glasses and peering at the class.

"Present."

"Macey Albury?" Tap, tap.

"Here."

After Toby's name is called he tunes out again. It will take a couple more minutes to go through the roll; there are invariably some students who tune out before their names are called, and Mr Marsters has to repeat them until they snap back into reality.

"Spencer Hastings."

Toby tunes back in. Spencer raises her hand, and the teacher nods in acknowledgement. But then something happens that causes the class to collectively gasp: in a clear, ringing voice, Spencer says, "Present."

Nobody is quite sure how to react. Mr Marsters does a double-take, looking at her in bewilderment; Aria and Emily exchange a startled glance. This is the first time most of the people in the room have heard her speak, and everyone has heard the rumors about her – that she'd been kidnapped, and that even though that was years ago, she hasn't said a word since. To hear her speak so plainly, so openly, was more than anyone was expecting.

A confused murmur ripples through the room, and before it has time to settle, Spencer rotates in her seat so that she's looking back at Toby. She meets his eyes for a moment, smiles, and turns calmly back to the front of the room, like this is the most natural thing in the world. Toby stares at her back, his heart hammering in his chest.

Caleb leans over to him, raising his eyebrows. "Do you _know_ her?"

Toby shrugs. He doesn't know her, not really. They've only had one conversation, and her past is still very much a mystery. He's interested in her, intrigued by her, but he doesn't know her. He's not sure it's possible for anyone to know her; he doesn't need to know the details of her past to understand that she, too, is damaged, and that she has closed herself off to human contact. The fact that she's apparently speaking again is a good sign, but he can't help but wonder if she's too far gone to be able to let anyone in – if she even wants to, that is.

Mr Marsters clears his throat to diffuse the tension, but people continue staring at Spencer, some of them flicking their eyes between her and Toby as if they're trying to work out their connection. He's still trying to work it out himself. What are they, friends? Acquaintances? Classmates? He'd thought she'd only talked to him because he'd been convenient, because he'd been polite enough to keep her company at the party, maybe because he'd been stupid enough to punch Chris. But the way she'd smiled at him just now made him wonder… had it been something more?

As the teacher keeps marking the roll, the whispers continue. Spencer keeps her head high and pretends not to listen to them. Toby is still trying to make sense of what just happened, but before he's come to any solid conclusion, an announcement crackles over the PA system.

"Would Toby Cavanaugh please report to the principal's office. I repeat, Toby Cavanaugh to the principal's office. Thank you."

As the static fades away, Toby realizes that the entire class is staring at him. He hears a few muttered questions – 'What has he done _now_?' – but he ducks his head and ignores them. Mr Marsters nods at him and Toby quickly slips from his seat and hurries to the door. A few people try to get his attention on the way, but he reaches the hall without reacting to any of them.

The walk to the principal's office is one with which he's unpleasantly familiar. He's been down this way many times, but it seems longer today. He wonders what he could have done this time. It wasn't because he'd stood up to Chris the other day in the cafeteria, was it? Had the school somehow found out about what he'd done at the party? Could they even punish him for doing something off school property?

When he reaches the office door his heart is beating so fast he's surprised it hasn't imploded yet. The secretary sends him straight in, but he hesitates just outside the principal's office.

"It's okay," the secretary says, seeming amused. "He's not going to bite you."

Toby grimaces, but he pushes the door open and steps through anyway. Waiting inside is the principal, seated at his desk and regarding Toby calmly over the tips of his fingers, which are clasped together. To Toby's surprise there's someone sitting in front of the desk; her back is to Toby, but he recognizes her anyway. It's been a long time since he last saw her, but he'd recognize her anywhere.

She turns around slowly, and Toby finds himself face-to-face with the last person he would ever want to see.

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**Uh oh. Who do you think it is? (I admit it's probably obvious, but still, guess away.)**


	7. Speak

**Hey everyone! I'm sorry for the slow update - I'd hoped to update at least once a week, but these chapters seem to be getting longer, so you'll have to settle for less frequent updates with longer chapters. A few of you have been asking about what's going on in Spencer's mind, so here's a chapter from her POV; let me know if you like it, if you think it worked, and if you'd want more chapters from her perspective in the future (most of the story is still going to be from Toby's POV, as planned). And as usual, thank you for the amazing reviews you guys have been leaving (over 100 already? You guys are the best); without them I may not have the motivation to continue this story, so if you want me to keep writing, keep reviewing. Also, sorry for the cliffhanger last chapter, and for not answering it this chapter; but you'll find out who it is next time, and I can tell you that some of you have guessed it already. Anyway, thanks again, hope you like the chapter, and I'll see you next time. :)**

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The Hastings household is strangely quiet. It's Monday morning, the start of Spencer's second week of school. Her parents have already left for work, and her sister is still asleep. This suits Spencer well, because she isn't in the mood for any social interaction – at least not with her family. She sits herself down at the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee and a slice of toast, and tries to brace herself for what is going to happen today.

She'd been shocked when Emily had showed up on her doorstep Thursday afternoon, laden with a welcome basket for the Hastings family and a party invitation for Spencer. Mrs Hastings had been thrilled by the welcome and excited by the invitation. "Spencer, honey, you should go! It will be a good chance to bond with your peers. You do want to fit in, don't you?"

Her mother had worn her down, and Spencer had agreed to go. She knew the past couple years had been hard for her family. At first they'd been overjoyed to have her home, but she has a feeling they thought she'd just slip right back into their glamorous suburban lifestyle, as if she'd never been away. When she'd refused to talk they'd sent her to five different therapists, none of whom had made any progress. Eventually they'd uprooted themselves and moved here, to quaint little Rosewood. Her father had been a little reluctant ("Veronica, didn't you hear that a girl _died_ there last year? Do we really want to move there after… everything?") but as usual her mother had prevailed ("Nonsense, dear, they caught the killer months ago.").

She'd arrived at the party later than most people, so it was in full swing by the time she got there. The noise, the activity, the people – it had been unsettling. But her mother had nudged her out of the car, waved and smiled, and promised to be back in two hours. The prospect of those two hours was daunting. Here she was, more of an outsider than ever, expected to find something in common with these people who were too loud, too joyful, so unfamiliar with the darker side of the world that they could never understand who she was or what she'd been through.

She'd settled for sitting by herself, away from as many people as possible. That way she'd be able to tell her mother she'd gone to the party, and still be able to avoid the panic attacks that had sporadically plagued her waking hours since the day she escaped. In some ways they were even worse than the nightmares, because at least with those she could open her eyes and be somewhere else.

By the time she'd been there an hour and a half she was mind-numbingly bored. She was absently watching the drunken antics of her peers and reciting poetry in her mind just to keep herself occupied. She was halfway through Edgar Allan Poe's _The Raven_ when Emily bounded up, Toby in tow, and introduced them. Although she'd been startled at first, it had actually turned out to be a good thing.

She finishes her toast, downs a glass of orange juice, and swings her bag over her shoulder. There's no one to say goodbye to – or, in her case, wave goodbye to – so she just heads out the door and slides into her car. On the way to school she relives Friday night in her head, still not convinced it wasn't a dream.

After Emily had left and Toby sat down, Spencer had tried her best to ignore him. He'd been the one to protect her from Chris in the cafeteria, and she was grateful for that; but he was still a stranger, still a man, and she couldn't feel at ease with him. But as the silence stretched on she'd snuck a couple of glances at him, and to her surprise he hadn't been brimming with confidence. Given what he'd done to Chris, especially the way he'd intimidated him, she'd assumed that Toby was self-assured, confident and almost cocky.

But here he looked almost… vulnerable. He seemed to be struggling to find something to say, and for a second Spencer felt sorry for him. A long time ago she'd actually been a skilled conversationalist, carefully navigating conversations with her father's business partners, her mother's friends who dropped round for tea and crumpets, her classmates who came over for study dates. She knew what to say and how to say it, and it was her quick thinking and clever use of words that endeared her to parents and children alike, and ensured her a place on the debate team every year.

Yet now, she was silent. And Toby was too. Eventually he started babbling about carpentry, and Spencer could almost see his eyes lighting up as he talked about his passion. She listened politely, but she found it hard to relate. She'd long ago lost all traces of passion; she had no intention of taking up any extracurriculars, and her time spent at home was mostly used to read and ruminate. She hadn't played the piano or picked up her field hockey stick since she'd been back. Her sister had once commented that she seemed like a shell of her former self, and her mother had pursed her lips – but she hadn't come to Spencer's defense.

She still isn't sure what exactly prompted her to speak. Her emotions had been going haywire, and her mind had been a mess. When Chris sat next to her she'd been so scared that she literally started trembling. Aside from her father – and now, Toby – she hadn't been that close to a man since the night she escaped, since she fell into the arms of a waiting police officer and was carted off in an ambulance.

There was something predatory about Chris, something that froze her in place. Toby's return had been much more welcome than his initial arrival, and when he'd confronted Chris because he'd been bothering Spencer, her heart, which had already been beating rapidly, felt like it was on a roller coaster. And when he punched him, and Chris dropped to the ground like a felled tree, she knew something had changed. In that moment Toby was no longer a stranger. He wasn't quite her friend, but he wasn't just her classmate either. He was something… different.

That still didn't explain why she had thanked him. He'd seemed as shocked as he had been, his eyes widening in astonishment. She'd instantly dropped her gaze, astonished herself. She had held her tongue since the night she'd escaped her captor, not saying a word to the police officer who'd found her, the paramedics who'd treated her, not even greeting her parents when they'd turned up in tears at the police station an hour later. She'd stayed silent during a thousand therapy sessions, during police questioning and newspaper interviews, during her parents' pleas and her sister's cajoling. So what was it about this boy that made her break her vow of silence?

She'd walked away from him, ignoring his calls and searching for somewhere quiet, and was pondering that very question – _why?_ – when Toby found her again. To her surprise, she didn't resent his presence. In a way he was intruding on her solitude, but with the way he'd defended her, she felt he had every right to be there. But she was so shaken up by everything that had happened, she could hardy even acknowledge his presence. She had to work hard not to cry, and she had a feeling he thought she was upset because of him. She wanted to tell him that it wasn't that, not at all. She was upset with herself, for losing control and speaking again after so long, for letting her emotions get to her – and for not being able to stand up for herself. There was a time when she would have taken Chris on herself, breaking him down with her words until he wouldn't dare touch her; and now, apparently, Toby was fighting her battles for her.

Toby talked to her, comforted her, and she found herself talking back. It didn't feel natural, exactly, but it wasn't as horrible as she'd thought it would be. When her mother picked her up and asked how it was, she'd responded with a smile. She didn't let it slip that she'd started speaking again, she didn't mention the boy who'd cornered her or the blue-eyed boy who'd saved her. Just a smile, and that was answer enough.

She pulls into the school parking lot, grabs her things, and makes her way into the building. Everything seems a little bit less forbidding than usual. The cold brick walls feel further away, no longer suffocating and smothering; the babble of noise fades into the background, familiar rather than grating. Yet aside from that, nothing much changes. She doesn't make direct eye contact with anyone, she sits by herself at lunch, and she goes about her business with her head down and her mouth closed.

That is, until her last period of the day. She walks in, avoiding everyone's curious looks; they'd been fascinated by her before, but most of them had recognized that she was so different it was hardly worth trying to connect with her. But after seeing her at the party on Friday, it's almost like an invisible wall has been lowered – not quite removed, but the impact of it significantly lessened. One or two people even greet her, but she ducks her head and says nothing. She's not quite ready for that kind of interaction.

As soon as she sits down Aria leans over and starts talking to her.

"It was great seeing you at the party the other day," Aria gushes, and beside her Emily nods in agreement. "I didn't expect to see you there."

Spencer smiles, unsure what else she can do. Emily and Aria seem nice enough, maybe even the kinds of girls she would have been friends with before all of this happened, but she's a lot more reserved that she used to be. Trusting anyone is a leap of faith, and she's still teetering at the edge. Chris has proved to her that there are still people who would hurt her, reminding her that she shouldn't trust so easily – look how she ended up last time she trusted the wrong person.

Chris is sitting a couple of rows ahead of her, and as she listens to Aria explain about the upcoming Charity Ball – apparently it's the Rosewood High event of the semester – she can't help but look at him. He's staring straight ahead, not talking to anyone, which is such a change from his usual self – most other times she's seen him, he's been snickering with his friends about the latest funny video they found online or the mass email they got spreading rumors about the sexual orientation of the football team captain. Today he's silent, and Spencer isn't sure if that's a good thing. But she watches him a second too long, and he turns around.

She jumps and jerks her head away, focusing again on Aria, who gives her a curious look – then her eyes drift over to Chris and her looks turns to one of understanding. Spencer can still feel Chris looking at her, and she's sure he knows he was just looking at him. She carefully avoids his gaze, listening to Aria and Emily try to convince her to go to the Charity Ball, until the teacher comes in and starts marking the roll.

In the coming days, many people will ask her about the moment she first spoke. They'll ask _Why now?_ and _Why here?_ and _What made you finally break? _and she'll look at them with a polite smile and shake her head, as if she doesn't want to discuss it. But the truth is, she's not quite sure of the answers.

When the teacher calls her name, she raises her hand in response, just like every day. A few people glance up at her – she's still the new girl, still the odd one out, still a source of much confusion and the subject of many rumors – and then look down again, uninterested. Once, Spencer had loved being in the limelight; she'd wanted to be the favorite child, the star student, the girl teachers called on and old ladies smiled at. Now the only time people stare at her is when they're looking at her pityingly, asking her questions she can't answer, and waiting for words she won't say.

Something shoots through her. In a blink she remembers speaking to Toby, how it wasn't as terrifying as she'd thought it would be. She'd regretted it, but now… maybe it wasn't such a bad thing. All of the therapists she'd been to had said that she should start speaking when she felt ready, that it should be her decision. She'd always been someone who loved being in control, who made her own decisions and stuck by them. After her ordeal, when all control had been taken from her, she'd been working at slowly regaining it – and maybe this is just another step in that process. Maybe she's ready.

She takes a deep breath, keeps her gaze locked on the front chalkboard, and says, "Present."

The response is instant and intense. All eyes in the classroom lock onto her, and people start muttering. Before the noise dies down Spencer twists in her seat, meets Toby's eyes, and smiles. He doesn't smile back, and she thinks for a moment she's made a horrible mistake. She turns back to the front, waiting for the murmurs to stop and her classmates to turn their attention elsewhere. She can sense the way they're looking at her, even though she avoids making eye contact. They're surprised, but it's mixed in with the usual pity. Maybe this was a bad idea.

Behind her she hears someone – Caleb, she thinks his name is – whisper, "Do you _know_ her?"

He's talking to Toby, she knows, and she waits for him to explain that they hung out at the party, that he's spoken to her before, that he went up against Chris for her. But he doesn't say anything. He doesn't even say 'No, but I'd like to get to know her' or 'Maybe' or 'Sort of'. He says nothing, and in the silence Spencer feels her heart sink. He's the first person she's spoken to in two years, and yet.. they're not friends. They're hardly even acquaintances. Maybe she shouldn't have talked to him, or spoken just now.

She flicks through her textbook, fighting the urge to run. The walls are starting to feel suffocating again, and her heart is pulsating rapidly. Her palms start to feel sweaty and she bites her lip, knowing what this is leading up to. She can't have a panic attack, not here, not now. She hasn't had one in a month, and she'd thought that if she could make it through her first week of school without one she'd be in the clear. Apparently she's been wrong about a lot of things lately.

As an announcement crackles over the PA system Aria leans across and mutters, "Spencer, are you okay?"

"Yeah," she replies without thinking, and then feels blood rush to her cheeks. This was meant to make her feel in control, but it seems that now her spell of silence is over she's back to blurting things out.

The announcement ends, and Toby rises from his seat and hurries out of the room. Spencer watches him go, wondering if maybe she was wrong about him too.

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	8. Reunion

**Thanks for your feedback last chapter. I'll add in some more Spencer POV chapters later on, but only occasionally. This is still mostly going to be from Toby's perspective.**

**Now, lovely readers and wonderful reviewers, I have a favor to ask. Lately I have been losing some of my Spoby feels (that's what I get for having so many ships, I suppose) and a lot of faith in my writing, so if you guys have any idea how to get either of those back, let me know - it might help me update more frequently.**

**And, once again, thank you to everyone who takes the time to review, whether you do it every chapter or just occasionally; your words mean so much to me. Also, well done to everyone who correctly guessed who was waiting in the office.**

**To answer a few questions/concerns you guys have raised: I'm not going to forget about this story, and I'm going to do my best to finish it; Toby did experience some bullying in this story, which you'll find out more about as we go; there's a slightly different Toby/Jenna backstory, which will also be explained; Toby's mother is not alive in this story; I'm going to try to include some fluff in here, of course, but not at the expense of the plot.**

** Finally, enjoy this chapter - it's meant to be a parallel to one of my favorite Spoby scenes, so bonus points if you can tell me which episode it's from (although I'm sure you guys will have no trouble with that). See you next time!**

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For a long, long moment, all Toby can do is stare. He hasn't seen his stepsister in over a year, and he's not sure how to react to the sight of her now. She looks different to the way he remembers her, but at first he can't figure out how. The longer he stares, the more the differences come to light. She's lost weight, and it doesn't suit her; it makes her look smaller, more fragile. She's wearing a long-sleeved sweater, and it hangs loosely around her. Her hair is longer, tied in a careful braid that runs down her back, interlaced with a white ribbon that weaves in and out of the braid. She half-rises from her chair, her eyes flicking over his face as if she's searching for something.

Before either of them can speak, there's movement in the corner of the room. Toby turns, and only now notices the figure sitting there.

"Toby," his father says, getting to his feet and walking over. "Aren't you going to greet your sister?"

"She's not my sister," Toby mumbles, looking at the ground. "She's my stepsister."

"_Toby_."

The warning tone in his voice makes Toby look up. He meets his father's eyes, and suddenly it's last May, and he's standing in his workshop, his father bursting through the door with murder in his eyes and venom in his words. Toby blinks hard, his hand sliding into his pocket and his fingers brushing up against the block of wood he keeps there. Reluctantly, he turns to his stepsister again.

"Hi Jenna." The name feels like tar in his mouth. "How are you?"

Her mouth twitches, and her expression shifts into something that's a cross between a smile and a grimace. "Hi Toby," she says softly. "I'm… better."

"Well." The principal claps his hands, looking from one family member to another. "It's great to have you back, Jenna. I trust that Toby will do all he can to help you settle back in."

Although it's the last thing Toby wants to do, he takes note of the stern look his father gives him. He lowers his head in acknowledgment, not trusting himself to speak.

"Excellent," the principal says, either unaware or tactfully ignoring the tension between the family members. "So Jenna will start back here tomorrow, and Toby will help her reacquaint herself with the school. We have a counselor, Ms King, who will be happy to meet with Jenna as often as she needs."

"That won't be necessary," Mr Cavanaugh says stiffly. "My daughter will be continuing her treatment at Radley, as per her doctor's orders."

"Of course." The principal ignores the thinly veiled insult to the school, focusing his attention on a stack of papers in front of him. He pulls a few out and pushes them across the desk. "There are just a couple more forms to fill out, Mr Cavanaugh, and then, if there's nothing else you want to talk about -"

"Actually." Mr Cavanaugh looks at Jenna and Toby, and then takes a step toward the desk. "There is one more thing I'd like to talk about."

The principal spreads his hands wide, indicating for him to go on.

Mr Cavanaugh turns again to his children. "You two go and wait in the hall. I'll be out in a minute."

Jenna stands up at once, wrapping her arms around herself and slipping out the door. Toby follows a moment later, after giving his father what he hopes is an accusing look. He feels blindsided by this, and frustrated with his father. He'd always known that Jenna would come back someday, but after all that had happened he'd assumed that his father would at least give him warning of it. There's a lot of bad blood between them, and Toby would have liked to have time to prepare himself for this moment.

When he reaches the hall, Jenna is drinking from the water fountain. She looks up as he approaches, wiping her mouth with the back of the sleeve. She looks smaller than she used to be, more frail – but he knows better than to try to protect her. She doesn't need it, and even if she did he'd be the last person to offer it to her.

"Toby -" she starts.

"I don't want to hear it. Whatever you're going to say, whatever excuse or lie you've come up with, just – don't. Okay?"

Jenna surveys him thoughtfully, and Toby feels his skin prickle. A memory of the last time he saw her creeps up in his mind, but he pushes it away before it gets too far. Yet he can still hear the echoes of sirens, feel the sting of his father's words, taste the bitterness of salt as he tries to hold back tears.

"Just as guarded as always," Jenna comments, still trying to get him to meet her eyes. Her hand flutters out as if she wants to touch him, but she thinks better of it. A beat passes, and then her hand falls back to her side.

Toby releases a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He hasn't had any physical contact with Jenna since a week before she left, and he still winces at the memory. He glances down the hall, takes a tentative step closer to his stepsister, and says quietly, "Jenna, why are you back?"

"What do you mean?" Her voice is pleasant enough, but she narrows her eyes slightly. "I was released from Radley because I got better, Toby."

"What does that even mean?" Toby folds his arms, torn between wanting to know more about his stepsister's unexpected return and wanting to get as far away from her as possible. "When you say that you're 'better' -"

"It means," Jenna interrupts calmly, "that I've come to recognize that my actions last year were the result of an unstable mind and unhealthy coping mechanisms. I've learned ways to balance my mood and express my feelings, and my ongoing treatment will ensure that we avoid a repeat of the events that brought me to Radley last May."

She says it in a monotone, like she's reciting it from memory. As she speaks she picks at a loose thread in her sweater, her eyes drifting around the room. She follows a group of freshmen girls as they scurry down the hall, giving Toby a dirty look.

"Where'd you pick that up?" Toby asks. "A brochure? Self-help book? A bottle of Vitamin Water?"

"My last therapist, actually. But what does that matter?"

Toby leans against the wall, watching his stepsister cautiously. Some part of him wants to believe that she's genuine, that her time away has done her good and she's ready to reintegrate into the family and into society, but optimism has never been his style. "Jenna, after you left… it was horrible. Do you get that? It was hell."

With a teasing smile she asks, "Why, because you missed me so much?"

He pushes himself off the wall, sudden anger surging through him. After everything that had happened, she has the nerve to stand here and tease him like this? Nobody else would have the guts to do that, and while many people admire Jenna's apparent bravery, Toby just finds it insufferable. "No," he says, struggling to keep his voice steady. "It wasn't because I missed you. It was because you left one hell of a mess behind. Do you know how hard it was to go back to school after you went away? Everybody knew – or at least they thought they knew – what had happened. Do you know what people called me? Do you know what they thought I did? Do you have any idea how hard it's been for the rest of us while you've been off learning how _not_ to be a monster?"

Jenna's smile has been slowly fading, and by the time Toby finishes his rant she's almost crying. She wipes a tear away, but before she can say anything the door to the office opens and Toby's father strides out. His mouth is open and he's about to say something, but she stops short at the sight of Jenna. She turns her tear-filled eyes on him, and he swings around to face Toby. "What have you done?" he growls.

Toby pales. There aren't many people who can scare him, and even fewer whose respect he craves – but his father falls into both categories, and every veiled insult, every disappointed look, makes him feel even smaller. "I didn't -" he stammers, but his father doesn't give him time to explain.

Mr Cavanaugh takes Jenna gently by the hand, shaking his head sadly at Toby. "I expected better of you, Toby. Your sister has been back less than a day and you're already back to your old tricks."

"But -"

"I don't want to hear it," he says wearily. "I'm going to take Jenna home now, and I expect you to come straight home after school. And by the time you get there, you'd better have a new attitude and be ready to give your sister the welcome she deserves. Am I clear?"

Although Toby's heart hurts at the injustice of these words, he knows there's no sense in arguing. He's never been able to win an argument against his father. "Yes," he says meekly, and his father gives him a brief nod before turning and leading Jenna down the hall.

As Toby watches his father and stepsister walk away the bell rings, releasing a flood of students. But even through the crowd he can see Jenna turn around, meet his eyes, and give him an amused smile, dropping pretences for just a moment before drawing closer to Mr Cavanaugh and giving a loud sniffle. It doesn't surprise him that she can muster up tears so easily or manipulate his father so perfectly. It's what she's always done, and apparently her time at Radley hasn't changed that.

Toby moves to the side of the hall, trying to stay out of everyone's way, and attempts to collect his thoughts. He's more shaken up than he cares to admit, and he considers going to find Caleb. But they've never really had a touchy-feely relationship, and although he knows Caleb would listen and do his best to be sympathetic, he'd be way out of his depth. It's better if Toby just deals with it himself.

He takes a few deep breaths and is about to start walking when somebody – one of the football team, he thinks – waves to him as he walks past. The guy turns around so that he's walking backwards, still watching Toby. Then he grins and asks, "What's up, Lady Killer?"

His friends snigger and shoot a few looks Toby's way, and Toby waits until they've gone around the corner before he allows the comment to sink in. His peers have not forgotten the events of last year, have not forgiven him for his perceived sins, have not moved on or matured. He was foolish to think things would get better.

Lady Killer. The name makes him feel sick. He is still being punished for crimes he never committed, and nobody will let him forget it. His feet are moving before he's aware of it, and he hurries down the hall, searching for an escape. There's a crowd around the front door, and it's too far away. He needs somewhere quiet, and he needs it now.

His eyes scan the corridor, coming to a rest on the nearest door. It's unlocked and slightly ajar, and that's all the encouragement he needs. He cuts across a couple of sophomore boys trading baseball cards and ducks into the room, his heart uncomfortably heavy in his chest. He'd thought he was over it, that he didn't care what his classmates thought or said. So why is he letting it get to him like this?

He reaches the far wall and rests his palms against it, closing his eyes and willing the world to disappear. If only he could be in his workshop, the one place he's in control. The nickname bounces around in his skull, deafening him. He turns around and slides down the wall, still trembling with frustration – and, he realizes now, with sadness. Outside the door, the world continues. Students walk past, gossiping about teachers and each other and anything else they can think of. Teachers rush to their cars, eager to escape the throng and return to their homes, where their partners and pets and other lives are waiting.

And Toby keeps sitting, until the noise has died away and the last students have fled. He knows he will have to get up soon, go home and deal with his father and Jenna and his own other life, but he can't bring himself to move.

After a while he hears a voice call out, some generic farewell; and then he hears footsteps. They speed up, coming closer, and even though he doesn't open his eyes he can tell the person is going to pass right by. The door is still slightly open, and whoever it is will probably see him. Maybe they'll laugh at him, Toby the Freak having a meltdown, and run off to tell all their friends. Maybe they'll insult him, or, even worse, offer him insincere kindness.

The footsteps become slower, more hesitant, and then they stop. He can hear soft breathing; the person is still there, probably gawking at him, trying to stifle their laughter. Finally he looks up, and is startled when he meets sympathetic brown eyes. Of all the people who could have come across him at this low point, of course it had to be her.

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	9. Brittle

**Good news, guys: I got my Spoby feels back! I've rewatched all my favorite scenes, found some vids, made myself a playlist, the whole nine yards. And I've got more of a plan for this story now, so don't worry, I'll still be working on this and updating as often as I can.**

**This chapter's shoutout goes to ****pll-addiction****. Your reviews are too sweet and make me smile so much, and I am so glad you're liking my story. Thank you so much; I can't even tell you what your reviews mean to me. And fear not, I'm aiming to make this story last quite a while, as long as people stay interested.**

**Well done to everyone who guessed the episode I was trying to parallel last (and to an extent, this) chapter. And thank you to everyone who favorited, followed, reviewed - and especially to those who offered me suggestions on how to get back into the groove. Couldn't have done it without you. Hope you all enjoy the chapter.**

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In the silence that follows, Toby is reminded of a time last summer when he went hiking by himself – anything to get out of the house. He'd headed up into the woods, not even bothering to leave a note behind; when his father got home from work, he probably wouldn't even notice that the house was empty. After a while the trees gave way to scrub, and eventually to rocks. Huge rock formations loomed in front of him, seemingly insurmountable, but something in him – whether it was recklessness or a sense of adventure, he was never quite sure – prompted him to climb the tallest one. His hands were scraped and bleeding by the time he got to the top, but the view was worth it. He could see all of Rosewood, all the fancy houses and antlike people spread out before him, so small he could almost believe he could squash them beneath his foot – and, although he wouldn't admit it, part of him wanted to.

He'd stayed up there for an hour, not speaking, not moving, undisturbed and feeling something akin to peace. It wasn't the fierce kind of happiness brought about by the passion he put into his carpentry; this was something quieter, something new and more gentle. When he'd finally moved, the peace didn't disappear like he'd expected it to; instead it seemed to cling to him, following him as he started climbing down the rock. It lasted exactly until the second his foot slipped.

There was a horrible moment, one that seemed to drag on forever, in which he knew he was going to fall. And, as sure as that, he knew there was nothing he could do to stop it. His heart had thudded to a stop, all thoughts had fled from his mind, and he'd squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to know what happened next.

He feels a little like that now. Stuck in that moment just before you fall, when you know things are about to go horribly wrong and feel helpless to stop them. He scrambles to his feet, watching Spencer's eyes widen in surprise at the sudden movement.

"S-sorry," he stammers. "Did you need the room for something?"

She shakes her head, looks down the hall, even takes a step away from the door. Then her eyes dart back to his, she clutches the pile of books she's carrying tighter to her chest, and her mouth tilts downwards slightly. He thinks it's a sign of disdain or disappointment – the Lady Killer is making a mess of things again. But her eyes are gentle, albeit wary, and he remembers that she doesn't know anything about his past. She doesn't know about Jenna, about why she went away and what people said after she left, and she probably doesn't know anything about – well, everything else. The way she's looking at him now isn't quite pity, either. If anything, it's concern.

"Are…" She trails off, clears her throat, tries again. "Are you okay?"

The question itself isn't unusual, but the way she asks it is. The last time someone had asked him that question, it had been with the very clear implication that there was only one correct answer. But she looks serious, like she really wants to know, and a little surprised, as if she's not sure why she cares.

"I'm fine," he mumbles, not even letting himself consider telling her the truth. She doesn't seem to move, but something in her expression changes. Something subtle and yet noticeable, and Toby feels something in himself change too. "It's just… family stuff, you know?"

As soon as the words fall from his mouth he wants to snatch them back up again. His 'family stuff' probably seems incredibly petty to someone like Spencer, someone who has been through some kind of unimaginable hell. He must look embarrassed, because Spencer's expression shifts to one of amusement and she takes a couple of steps inside the door. He watches quietly as she sets her book down on a desk, considers him, and then hoists herself up onto the next desk, crossing one leg over the other and looking at him expectantly.

He notices that she is between him and the door, and he wonders if this is automatic or deliberate. If what he's heard is true, if she was really kidnapped, it makes sense that she would try to avoid feeling trapped, and he does his best to make her feel safe. He leans against the desk nearest him, so there's still almost half a classroom in between them.

A hundred different things run through Toby's mind, and he starts to pick through them, to work out what to keep to himself and what to reveal. Finally he says, "You shouldn't be here."

He had intended it as a warning, but it almost sounds like a threat. Spencer seems to take it as such; she stiffens, becoming guarded again, and Toby realizes how harsh his words had sounded.

"No," he says quickly, "I didn't mean it like that. I just mean… well, people talk."

She doesn't say anything, but she makes no move to leave. Instead she just sits there, patiently waiting for him to go on. He'd had a therapist once, just after Jenna had been sent away, who had adopted a similar approach. She would sit in her chair, occasionally tapping her pen against her notebook or rearranging highlighters on her desk, and just wait for Toby to speak. He never did, and a few times he just got up and walked out on her. But this is different, and although he doesn't quite want to open up, he doesn't want to leave either.

"You must have heard what people have been saying." Toby runs his finger along a crease in his jeans, weighing each word before he says it. "Doesn't it… I mean, aren't you…"

"Scared?" Spencer finishes softly.

Toby glances up. She seems small, vulnerable, and she's still not quite meeting his eyes. She tucks some hair behind her ear, retreating back into herself while she waits for his reply. "Well, yeah," he says. Words are failing him, but he keeps trying. "Some people still think that I tried to -"

"I know," she interrupts, and then ducks her head, like she's not sure she should have spoken.

"So you've heard." He's trying to stop himself from being too cynical, from jumping to conclusions, but it's hard to trust that anyone could be genuine. It's so much easier to shut people out, to let them assume what they like and call him whatever names they want, than it is to convince them of the truth.

"I heard," she says slowly. "But that's not what's bothering you, is it?"

He looks up, startled by this astute observation. Hearing that nickname had been what had tipped him over the edge, but it's not what's really getting to him. "No," he admits quietly. "It's not what they call me, or what they think I did."

"So what is it?"

He lets his hand trail along a line of graffiti carved into the desk, over unfamiliar names and all-too familiar insults: jerk, loser, weirdo. "I have a sister," he says, his hand pausing over the word 'freak'. "Well, a stepsister. She's been away for a long time, and she just came back today."

"You and your stepsister don't get along well?" Spencer surmises.

Toby lets out a snort at the understatement. "You could say that."

"I have a sister," Spencer says after a while, fiddling with the plain silver bracelet around her wrist. "We never really got along either."

And just like that, they have something in common. It doesn't tie them together, but it makes the distance in between them seem less. Spencer even leans forward a little, like she actually wants to talk.

"Did your sister ever call the cops on you?" Toby asks, more as a joke than a challenge, thinking back to one of the worst fights he and Jenna had ever had.

"Actually, yes." Spencer giggles at his shock, and Toby can't help but find the sound mesmerizing; when he'd first seen her he couldn't imagine she would ever smile, and now she's laughing. "She was only ten at the time. I'd stolen her favorite book and my parents weren't taking sides, so she decided it was a jail-worthy offence."

Toby can't help but laugh, and Spencer joins in. As she laughs her face changes, becoming more open, and for the first time he can remember the hurt seems to vanish from her eyes – not entirely, but still significantly.

"What happened?" Toby asks once he sobers up.

"They told her they'd look into it," Spencer says, still chuckling. "Then my parents took the phone off her and told her to never do that again."

"God," Toby says, laughing again. This shared moment with Spencer, bonding over the misery that is having siblings, is something he hadn't been expecting, but maybe it was something he'd needed. Something they'd both needed.

The laughter dies away, but the silence is more comfortable than before. Toby had come into this room because he was a wreck, and in the ten minutes he's been talking to Spencer his mood has lifted more than he'd thought possible.

"Toby," Spencer says hesitantly, which makes his heart skip a beat. "Can I ask -"

Her phone goes off, making her jump. She pulls it out, looking embarrassed, and then groans as she reads the message.

"That's my mom," she explains with a grimace, sliding to the ground and picking up her books. "I have to go now."

She's halfway to the door before Toby finds his voice again. "Spencer," he calls softly, and she turns around. "Thank you."

There's no need to say anything else. She dips her head, turning again for the door, and Toby is struck by how much of a role reversal this is: he'd protected Spencer from Chris, and now, in her own way, she's helping him.

"You never asked me," he says, and she stops but doesn't turn back. "Whether I did it or not," he clarifies.

Spencer slowly turns, so that she's looking at him over her shoulder. "I never had to."

Then she smiles, the kind of smile that would make him weak at the knees if he wasn't already leaning against the desk. Without thinking about it he smiles back, and her eyes brighten, as if she wasn't sure he'd return the gesture. Then without another word she's gone, but somehow Toby feels a little less alone.

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**So Spencer got her smile after all.**


	10. Drive

**I swear this isn't a filler chapter. Originally it was going to just be the start of a longer chapter, but I decided to make it distinct when I realized how long it was getting. Remember that this isn't your typical Spoby story; it's not just about them meeting and falling in love and everything, it's also about who they are and what they've been through - so I like delving into their stories separately. That means there will be some chapters with no actual Spoby interaction. I make no apologies for this, because it's just how the story plays out in my mind.**

**Shoutout this chapter to ****cavanaughtobias**** - your inclusion of this story in a recommendation list on Tumblr, which I happened to stumble across, gave me the enthusiasm to finish this chapter and get to work on the next, so thank you! I hope you like this chapter. And special mention to anyone who came across this story because they read that rec list. Thanks as usual to everyone who favorited, followed, and, most of all, reviewed, you guys are so sweet.**

**I'm already working on the next chapter, so to make up for this short one, you can expect the next one within a couple of days. As always, review review review, and I'll see you soon.**

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When Toby gets home from school, his spirits slightly elevated due to his conversation with Spencer, his father is sitting in the living room. Toby takes one look at Jenna, sitting beside Mr Cavanaugh like this is a perfectly normal thing to do, and he flees to his room. He's barely there five minutes before his father walks in (without knocking, of course) and instructs him to come into the living room for a family game of Monopoly. His father and stepmother do their best to make it a cheerful event, trying to engage the children in conversation and convince them that the game is fun, but they all know that theirs is a broken family. And they all know better than to mention it.

Dinner at the Cavanaugh household is an uncomfortable affair that night. Their game of Monopoly had ended when Mr Cavanaugh went bankrupt and Jenna bought a new hotel, forcing Mrs Cavanaugh to sell off all her properties and Toby to storm off in disgust. Now he's sitting across from his father, his head down and his mouth closed. He's calculating how long he's expected to sit here before he can reasonably retire to his room for the night. Jenna is beside him, picking at her salad and making polite smalltalk with her mother.

"So, Toby," Mr Cavanaugh says when there's a break in conversation, "the Rosewood Charity Ball is coming up. Are you going to be taking anyone to it?"

"No, I -" Toby starts, intending on saying that he isn't planning on going at all. But his father, as usual, hears only what he wants to hear.

"Great. I was thinking it would be nice if you and Jenna went together," Mr Cavanaugh goes on, not noticing the way Toby's hand clenches around his fork. "She's still trying to readjust, and you know how cruel kids can be. It would be good for you to keep an eye on her."

Before Toby can protest, Jenna speaks. "I appreciate that, but I'm not a child. I can take care of myself."

"I know you've made progress at Radley, but -"

"Not just progress. Recovery." Jenna flutters her eyelashes, giving Toby's father an almost sincere look. "I'm better now, and I need to start being independent again."

"I understand that." Toby's father keeps his voice level, but his family can read between the lines. He's trying hard to stay in control, to not let his volatile temper get the best of him. "I'm not suggesting you're weak or that you need protection. I'm just saying that you and Toby should make an effort to get to know each other again, and going to events like this might be a good way to do so."

_Or a good way to make the family implode entirely_. Toby bites back his response. Silence is often his best defense; if he doesn't say anything, his words can't be used against him. It's easier to hate someone for what they said than for what they didn't.

He waits a few minutes, until it seems everyone has almost finished eating, and then he excuses himself and disappears to his room. His family is complicated at the best of times, and adding Jenna to the mix was bound to stir some things up – things he would rather not deal with right now. He lies on his bed, listening to music until he falls asleep.

When he wakes up, he knows better than to assume that the new day will bring any new hope, any easing of the tension in the family. He pads downstairs, and to his relief the kitchen is empty. Although he's there less than ten minutes – just long enough for coffee and a bowl of cereal – it's enough to ruin his morning. Jenna appears in the doorway, her hair in pigtails and her eyes brighter than they had been yesterday.

"Is there any left?" she asks, gesturing to the almost-empty coffee cup by Toby's elbow.

He shrugs, scooping the last spoonful of cereal into his mouth, and hopes that Jenna has enough sense to leave him alone.

She doesn't.

"Today's my first real day back at school," she says, pouring herself a glass of juice and sitting down across from him. "I was thinking it'd be good for me to get there early, just so I can see what's changed and get used to the place again."

Toby eyes her over the rim of the coffee cup, and then he lowers it to the table, still watching her. "Why are you telling me that? You're not suggesting -"

"That you drive your sister to school?" Mr Cavanaugh finishes breezily, striding into the room. "No, nobody's suggesting that you do that."

Toby's muscles relax – he hadn't even realized how tense he was – but quickly freeze up again at his father's next words.

"I'm telling you to do it. So get your stuff and get going, otherwise you'll be late."

In any other household, being told to drive a sibling to school is a nonissue. It's commonplace, everyday. In the Cavanaugh house, however, it's enough to cause a tense silence to fall across the room like a smothering blanket. Toby carries his cup and bowl over to the sink, his knuckles white from gripping them so tightly, and tries to think of a way to get out of this.

"Dad -" he begins.

"Don't try to argue." His father finishes slicing a banana and scatters the pieces on top of his bowl of muesli, giving Toby a look that clearly says this topic isn't up for discussion. "Take your sister to school, and we can talk about everything else later."

He heads for the door, but stops and turns around before he leaves the room.

"Jenna, if there's any problems, call me," he says, with a pointed look at Toby. "And Toby, if I hear one bad word about your behavior, you won't be allowed in your workshop for a week."

Toby stands in shocked silence as his father leaves. The silence continues until long after he's gone. Finally he turns to Jenna, trying to keep his indignation in check. "I'm leaving in five minutes," he says shortly, and then walks out without waiting for a response.

Ten minutes later they're driving past the church on the corner. Neither of them have said a word to each other, and Toby's doing everything he can to keep it that way. He keeps his eyes straight forward, turns the radio up, and leans his body away from Jenna to make it clear he doesn't want to talk.

"I'm sorry he's -" Jenna starts as they turn into the school's street.

"Don't apologize for him," Toby interrupts, pulling up outside the school and indicating that Jenna get out. She does, after only a slight hesitation, and as he drives around to park behind the school with all the other students, he thinks about what he should have said.

Jenna didn't need to apologize on behalf of his father. She should apologize for herself, for what she put him through. But she's stubborn, and Toby knows not to hold his breath while he waits for an apology that will never come.

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	11. Invitation

**I've had a crappy week, so I'm hoping that posting this (and getting reviews on it, hint hint) will cheer me up a bit. This chapter is heavy on the Spoby, and it's also sort of a turning point. The next chapter should be up fairly soon, I've already planned it so I just need to find the time to sit down and write it.**

**Thanks as always to everyone who reviewed, and welcome to the people who just followed/favorited. This chapter's shoutout goes to ****vondydora**** - for liking Spencer's 'stolen book' memory, for getting exactly what I'm trying to convey here, for responding to my A/N, and for being wonderful enough to leave nice long reviews. In answer to your question, Toby's story is very much intertwined with Jenna's, and the reason she left is linked with his nickname and outcast status.**

**All right. I have to race off to class now, so I'll leave it here. Enjoy the chapter, review if you like it (even if you didn't, let me know what I'm doing wrong and I'll try to fix it), and I'll see you guys at the next update.**

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By the time Toby is sliding into his seat at lunch, his mood has improved a little. His first few classes had been relatively easy; he and Caleb had talked the entire way through History, earning them a couple of glares from the teacher, but that didn't bother him. He'd gotten back the test he did last week, and he'd not only passed but actually done better than most of the class. And, best of all, he hasn't seen Jenna since he dropped her off this morning.

The rumors haven't been as bad as he'd expected. When Jenna had left it seemed like everyone had their own version of events – none of which were true – but now that she's back, not many people have much to say on the matter. Toby's stunt at the party on Friday seems to have given him a popularity boost (outside of his own little gang, Chris was primarily disliked; and now that Toby took him down a peg or two, people seem less scared of him and his group), and although a few people are still gossiping about what happened last year, most don't seem to care, or are at least too polite to talk about it in front of him.

"Hey." Caleb nudges him, his eyes locked on a spot across the cafeteria.

Toby follows his gaze, expecting to see Chris or Jenna, but it's someone a lot more welcome. As he looks at Spencer, who's balancing her lunch tray on one hand and fixing her hair with the other, he wonders why she always seems to take him by surprise.

"You know her, don't you?" Hanna asks from beside Caleb. "Why don't you go invite her to sit with us? She looks a little lost."

Toby turns his gaze to her, surprised. Hanna isn't particularly welcoming to newcomers – it had taken her a while to warm up to him, and he'd only been given the seal of approval because Caleb thought so highly of him. He considers asking if she's sure, if she'd be okay with that, but then decides not to push his luck. He quickly gets to his feet and wends his way across the cafeteria toward her.

For the first time, when she sees him she doesn't look shocked or concerned. She looks like she's actually glad to see him, and the expression – one of relief, of delighted surprise – is so foreign to him that it takes him a moment to figure out what it is.

"Would you…" He suddenly feels absurd, like he's about to ask her to the prom or something, and he feels his cheeks redden. "Would you like to come sit with us?"

She doesn't answer right away, and Toby finds himself imagining all sorts of horrible ways in which she might react. She could flat-out tell him no. She could laugh at him, or start crying, or walk off without saying anything. If she were any other girl, he would assume she's being coy, playing hard to get; but she's different, and where others see an opportunity, she probably sees an obstacle. Just another item in a long list of social landmines to navigate through, and Toby knows as well as anyone how catastrophic it can be to take one wrong step.

"Sure," she says at last, gesturing for him to lead the way.

He's not sure why, but he finds himself automatically reaching for her tray, silently offering to help carry it. She gives him a curious look, surprise mingled with disbelief, and pulls the tray closer to herself. "I can manage," she says somewhat stiffly, but her tone softens as she notices his embarrassment. "But thanks."

He leads her over to their table, puzzling out what just happened. Had he offended her somehow? Did she think his offer to carry her tray implied that he thought she was weak or in need of protection? Was she trying to prove that she was capable, that she didn't need anyone? Or was she simply caught off-guard?

Caleb gives Spencer a cursory nod as she sits down next to Toby, and then he continues his conversation with Hanna. Spencer begins picking the blueberries out of her muffin and lining them up along the side of her plate. Mona raises an eyebrow at Toby, silently asking, _Is she for real?_

Toby shrugs, and Spencer glances up, noticing Mona looking at her. "They were out of raspberry," Spencer mumbles.

"Here." Mona promptly hands over her own raspberry muffin, causing Spencer's mouth to fall open in surprise. "What?" Mona looks from Spencer to Toby and back again. "It's just a muffin."

Spencer accepts it graciously, thanking her and offering her own muffin in return. The whole exchange has taken less than a minute, and to the casual observer it would appear relatively insignificant. But Toby knows how important this has been. To him it feels like this is the first time Spencer has made an effort to connect, taken a step outside of her shell – and he's going to do his best to keep her out of it.

"So have you guys started the English assignment?" he asks, trying to get a group conversation going before Spencer starts thinking she made a mistake. He has a feeling that if she takes a step back from this, she may not be willing to try again.

"The one on _To Kill A Mockingbird_?" Caleb frowns, like remembering the title should be enough to get him a passing grade. "It's not due until next week, right?"

"Next Friday," Mona confirms, taking a bite of her blueberry muffin and chewing thoughtfully. "I think I'm going to do my character study on Boo Radley. He's an underrated character, and I want to explore -"

"Yeah, yeah," Hanna interrupts, waving her hand around airily as if to brush away Mona's words. "Spare us your technical mumbo jumbo."

Mona is so used to this that she isn't even offended. She just playfully rolls her eyes and asks, "Have you chosen your character then?"

Hanna nods, swallowing a mouthful of pasta. "I figured I'd just do that lawyer guy. Abacus Finch or whatever his name is."

Toby turns to Spencer in alarm as she lets out a noise halfway between a snort and a cough. She hastily tries to cover it up, but by now the entire group is looking at her in mild concern and confusion.

"Are you okay?" Toby asks gently.

She nods, wiping a couple of muffin crumbs off her sleeve and trying to be nonchalant. When she notices that everyone is still staring at her, she ducks her head and mumbles something.

"Sorry?" Mona raises an eyebrow, and Toby wonders if she's thinking they made a mistake in letting Spencer sit with them.

Spencer looks up at Mona, and then turns her gaze onto Hanna. "It's Atticus," she corrects softly. Her voice is hesitant, like she's expecting to be reprimanded. "His name is Atticus Finch."

Toby waits for Hanna's reaction. The blonde girl doesn't tend to take kindly to being corrected – even though she often needs it – and even Mona, who's top of just about every class, doesn't bother most times.

Before Hanna can speak, though, Mona bursts out laughing. "I like you, Spencer," she announces. "Maybe you can help me teach Hanna the difference between adjectives and adverbs."

Although she tries not to show it, when Toby sneaks a sideways look at her he sees that she's pleased with the apparent approval. Spencer gives Hanna an apologetic look, and the other girl seems disgruntled until Caleb leans over to give her a placatory kiss. Afterwards Mona and Hanna start discussing the latest sale down at the mall, and Caleb taps away at his phone. By the speed at which Caleb's fingers are flying over the keys Toby assumes he's doing something a little less than legal, but he doesn't bother to ask about it.

Instead he turns his attention to Spencer. She's dragging the tip of her fork through a mountain of peas, then organizing them into symmetrical rows, her face a picture of concentration and her eyes fixed firmly on her plate.

"You okay?" Toby asks, causing her to start, dropping the fork and disrupting her latest row. Apparently she'd forgotten she was part of a group now; he gets the feeling she's used to being on her own a lot, so adjusting to such a social setting might take a while.

She doesn't speak until she's retrieved the fork from behind the plate and fixed the row back up. Then she uses the fork to destroy all the rows, watching the peas roll all over the place, as chaotic as they had been neat a moment ago. "I'm fine," she replies, but her tone shows the uneasiness her words are trying to disguise.

"You don't have to stay here," Toby says. As much as he wants her to stay, he knows what it's like to be stuck somewhere you don't want to be, how that trapped feeling can cause you to lash out – or, more likely in her case, retreat so far into yourself that you can be more alone surrounded by people than if you were actually by yourself.

"It's okay." Spencer gives up on her food, resting the fork neatly on the table and looking around the cafeteria.

"So Spencer," Mona says, turning away from Hanna and facing the brunette, who gets the look of a deer caught in the headlights. "Are you going to join any clubs or societies? I'm head of the debate team, so if you were interested in that -"

Although Toby knows Mona is only trying to be nice, reaching out and trying to get to know the new girl, the effect it has on Spencer is worrying. She starts chewing on her bottom lip, her gaze dropping to the table. The reaction would be more appropriate if someone had just asked her about a deceased family pet or a failed class.

Mona picks up on this, and backs away at once. "I'm sorry," she says, confused and trying to be understanding, which is hard given that nobody really knows Spencer's story. "I didn't mean to…"

She trails off, not sure how to continue. Caleb's stoped typing, but he's still scrolling through his phone; Toby wonders if he's actually doing anything on it, or if he's politely trying to keep his attention elsewhere. Hanna is touching up her makeup, but she pauses to look at Spencer, concern and confusion mingling in her expression.

Toby tries to come up with something to say, some way to deflect attention away from Spencer, but social situations have never been in his comfort zone. Before he can say anything, Spencer takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders, and forces herself to look at Mona. "It's nothing," she says with a confidence only slightly diminished by the trembling in her voice. "I'm fine. I'll think about joining debate. Thanks for the offer."

At the end of her little speech her gaze drifts away again, focusing on a point way across the cafeteria; her way of removing herself from the situation without actually leaving. Mona takes the hint. "Great," she says, grinning widely. "So Hanna, are we still on for this afternoon?"

The mood significantly lighter, conversation continues. Mona and Hanna talk about clothes, television, boys, and other typical teenage-girl topics that Toby is uninterested in. He and Caleb strike up a conversation about a new action movie coming out that month, but as he's talking Toby is also listening, discreetly trying to make sure Spencer's okay. She's quiet, her breathing slightly shallow like she's still worked up, but she doesn't leave.

After a while the two conversations merge, and they begin planning a trip to the movies in the next couple of weeks. Then they float onto other topics, like gossiping about teachers and complaining about Rosewood – staples in any Rosewood High student's conversational diet. The rest of lunch passes quickly, and although Spencer doesn't speak again, she does connect. She smiles, laughs, even makes eye contact a couple of times. But there are also periods where she goes into her own world, and even when the others speak directly to her it takes a while for her to come back.

As the bell rings Mona and Hanna gather their things, wave goodbye, and walk off still chattering about the new hot assistant librarian. Caleb stares at Hanna's retreating figure with a mixture of adoration and frustration, shakes his head, and gives Toby a knowing smile.

"Later," he says, swinging his back onto his shoulder and trudging off to class.

Spencer is already reaching for her bag, but she stops moving when Toby speaks.

"Thanks," he says hesitantly. "For sitting with us. I know you probably didn't want to, but… I'm glad you did. And I hope it wasn't too horrible."

She gives him a half-hearted smile, and although he wonders if it's overstepping his bounds, he can't stop himself from asking, "You did think it was horrible, didn't you?"

"No," she says, a little too quickly. She picks up her bag and goes to stand up, but when she sees Toby's still watching her she leans back in her chair, tugging at her sleeve and looking vaguely uncomfortable. "It's not that. It's just… I don't think your friends liked me very much."

"What?" He looks towards the building, where said friends have just disappeared. "No, they liked you," he assures her. "Hanna takes a while to warm up to people, but she'll get there. Mona can be a little… intense, but she means well, and I think you impressed her. And Caleb can be standoffish, but he's a good guy. I'm sure they thought you were lovely, and once they get to know you, you'll feel right at home."

As soon as he's said it he realizes he shouldn't have. He's just implied that Spencer should be part of their group, and what if she thinks that's rude? What if he seems possessive? What if he scares her off? But as they silently grab their bags and start walking inside, he notices that she doesn't seem especially upset. She still seems distant in a way he can't put into words, and he still can't read her, but she doesn't appear to be as uncomfortable as she was earlier.

They part ways at the door, and, still without saying anything, they both pause. Spencer lets out a nervous giggle, and Toby smiles in response. Then, feeling daring, he asks, "Would you like to sit with us again tomorrow?"

She twirls a strand of hair around her finger, thoughtful. She takes such a long time to reply that Toby begins to think he's said or done something wrong, and he's even about to apologize and move away, but then she smiles and says, "Sure."

The second bell goes and she murmurs a goodbye before quickly slipping into the crowd and disappearing down the hall. Toby stands there for a moment more, and then he smiles as it hits him.

That time, she _was_ being coy.

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	12. Integration

**Thank you so much for your reviews, everyone. To those of you saying I should update more: believe me, if I could, I would update every day. Unfortunately I'm a full-time student with something vaguely resembling a social life, so I can't write nearly as much as I'd like to. I'm doing my best, though, so updates should be fairly frequent.**

**A couple of you have asked about Spencer's story, and whether Toby will ever find out the full truth. To be completely honest, I'm not entirely sure. However, the next few chapters are going to drop some hints and pave the way for some later more serious Spoby conversations (I've got some parallels, some drama, and a lot of revelations planned). There's going to be some pretty heartbreaking stuff in this story (I really hope I write it well, I don't want to let you lovely folk down), so, consider yourselves warned.**

**Before I let you get on with the chapter, I want to ask if any of you guys are (even borderline) Spemily fans. I didn't receive any reviews to the latest chapter of my Spemily story, ****_Felix Culpa_****, which makes me sad because I worked really hard on it and I want to know if people like it. So if you're interested in that pairing, or even in my writing, would you mind going over and having a look at it? If you don't, that's totally fine, and it won't affect how often I update this story. I'm hard at work on the next chapter, and I'll have it up soon regardless.**

**Hope you all are having a great day, and I hope you enjoy the chapter. :)**

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For the next three weeks, the group – including its newest member – falls into a routine. Spencer continues to sit with them, and after the first few days Toby stops asking her; she just silently joins them, they greet her, and then they return to whatever conversation they were having, usually Hanna and Mona talking about clothes or makeup. Gradually Spencer begins to talk more, first offering brief opinions about a shirt or a homework assignment or a song, and eventually working up to dropping small pieces of information about herself: her birthday is in April, she dislikes artificial orange flavoring, she was born in Maine but grew up in Philadelphia.

Toby finds himself stockpiling these little snippets, as if knowing such trivial details will somehow bring him one step closer to a girl who always seems to be half a world away. Even when she's talking, laughing along with the other girls, he feels like she's not really there. And then there are her bad days, when she hardly says a word and the look on her face makes it clear that she doesn't want to be disturbed. But even on those days she still sits with them, and Toby thinks that's a good sign – although she's still hard to read, and he's in equal parts frustrated and fascinated.

The rest of the group accepts her, but they seem to feel the same way. They're never sure what's going to upset her and what's okay to talk about; sometimes she'll have strange reactions to seemingly innocuous things, like a high-pitched ringtone going off in class or when George, the British exchange student, asks a question in class about American politics. She'll freeze up, sometimes shooting a panicked look at one of her friends - Toby feels like he knows her well enough now to consider her a friend – and other times refusing to look at or acknowledge anyone.

One time, a few days after she started sitting with sitting with them, Spencer had mentioned in passing how she had missed an entire year of school, and most of the group had assumed that it was because of whatever traumatic event happened to her (kidnapping is still the frontrunner when it comes to theories, but she hasn't denied or confirmed anything). Hanna, however, had directly asked her why she'd missed school, and when Spencer didn't reply she'd even used the word 'kidnapped' in her next question. Caleb, mortified, had apologized on behalf of his girlfriend and ushered her off to the other side of the cafeteria, where he gave her a lesson in tact and etiquette, and explained why it's never okay to ask someone if they were kidnapped.

But the damage was done. Tears had filled Spencer's eyes, and she hadn't talked for a full two days. Toby was just beginning to think she'd regressed, and felt a surge of anger towards Hanna for making Spencer feel so cornered, but then the next day Spencer turned up to school, greeted him by name, and acted like nothing was wrong. The rest of the group followed her lead, but they were still tentative when they talked to her, not wanting to set her off again. Hanna got into the habit of waiting ten seconds before saying anything, so that she could filter her words; a few times Toby watched her quietly counting under her breath, and once he even mentioned to her that he appreciated the effort.

Mona is the first of the group, aside from Toby, to take a shine to Spencer. Toby can see that she begins to realize Spencer is her intellectual equal, and she sees a lot of herself in the older girl. The first time Spencer beats her in a test, Mona is surprised; the second time, she's upset with herself; and the third time she takes it as a challenge. Toby is worried at first that Spencer might feel like Mona is attacking her, because Mona doubles her study efforts and makes a point of saying that she's going to do better next time. But Spencer rises to the challenge, throwing herself into her studies with a fervour that nobody knew she possessed. She takes to studying like Emily took to swimming or Toby to carpentry. Mona and Spencer develop a healthy rivalry, and from that blossoms something close to friendship.

Caleb is the next to really accept her. Toby isn't sure why, but Caleb and Spencer seem to hit it off quite well. They come from two different worlds; she came from a wealthy family, and he came from nothing. But then, Toby reminds himself, that's not so different to himself. She and Caleb talk about computer programming – Toby has no idea when she had the time to learn something like that, but he doesn't ask – and their mutual disdain for organized religion, and after a while she's even comfortable talking to him outside of the group. She gradually starts to talk to him one-on-one, and although Toby feels – hopes – that she's closest to himself, she and Caleb do get along well.

Hanna is the last one to warm up to her. For the first week Hanna keeps her distance, and after the incident with the word 'kidnapped' she seems even less willing to interact with the new girl. But Caleb slowly talks her into it, and Hanna soon learns which topics are safe to bring up. She and Spencer like some of the same music and movies, and as Spencer becomes more sure of herself she puts more effort into her appearance, adding a bow here and a ribbon there, and Hanna starts to appreciate the other girl's sense of style. Toby hears them talking about a couple of trips to the mall, and Hanna even invites Spencer to a sleepover at one point; Spencer politely declines, but Toby can see she's flattered by the offer. The event that seals the deal, however, happens about two weeks into it. Mona is talking about her history project, and she ends up getting a date wrong. Spencer corrects her, which Hanna finds hilarious; she and Spencer share a laugh, and from that moment on they seem to be on the same page a lot of the time.

As for Toby, he's still not sure where he stands with her. She's talking to him more, and she even offered to tutor him in French if he needed it; the fact that she's confident enough to do so makes him a little less worried about her – he's not sure why, but whenever he's around her he has a slight sense of impending doom, like her world or his is about to come crashing down – and when she starts answering questions in class, out loud, he's almost as happy for her as she is for herself.

After a while she starts interacting more with other people too. She doesn't go out of her way to talk to people she doesn't know, but she stops shying away from conversations with those who initiate them. A few times he sees her talking to someone in gym, or hanging out by someone else's locker and chatting to them while they get their textbooks out. She especially starts to talk to Emily and Aria, who do their best to make her feel welcome. They pair up with her for group projects in class, greet her in the halls, talk to her in the line at the cafeteria.

Toby is glad she has such caring people looking out for her, but the small pessimistic voice in his head starts to make him wonder if maybe he should back off. She doesn't seem to need him; he was there to help her start speaking again, and he was the first person she opened up to, but what if she doesn't need his help anymore? What if he's smothering her? Yet every time he thinks that, he finds her coming back to him, whether with a look, a smile, or a friendly word, and it makes him feel like maybe, just maybe, he finally means something to someone.

It also gives him a nice distraction from Jenna. His father is still adamant that his two children should get along, and he's almost aggressively trying to produce some kind of truce between them. Jenna is resistant, and Toby even more so; he has no desire to reconnect with the person who made last year hell for him. His stepmother, at least, seems to understand this, and occasionally she'll intervene and tell his father to 'let the kids work it out for themselves'. He's never been very close to her, but at times like this he's grateful for her input.

A strange sort of peace settles over Toby and the rest of his group. Their new member hasn't changed their dynamics too much, and he's just starting to think that maybe things will be okay. Spencer is incredibly bright, and if he looks beyond the ghosts haunting her eyes, he thinks he can see the passionate girl she used to be. Knowing that someone as damaged as her finds comfort in a friendship with him, knowing that he's helped her even a little, is enough to help him deal with his own damage. He values his newfound friendship with her, and hardly ever lets himself remember what it was like without her before. It was like someone had been missing from their group, only they hadn't noticed it. And now that she's here, he wouldn't have it any other way.

He gets so used to seeing her every day that the first day she's absent, he feels a lurch at the sight of her empty chair. He tells himself not to worry, that she's probably just sitting with Emily and Aria, but he asks around and finds out that nobody's seen her all day. That first day he doesn't worry much, but the days slip by and his anxiety grows. He has no way of contacting her, but Mona and Hanna, who both have her number, try calling and texting her. There's no response, and by the time a week has passed, he's not the only one who's worried. Mona and Hanna start whispering about it, and Emily even asks Toby if she's heard from her.

He hasn't, and he can't shake the feeling that something bad might have happened to her.

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**Something bad, in Rosewood? Never.**


	13. Livre

**Sorry not sorry for the cliffhanger last time. Hopefully this chapter makes up for it. Speaking of, I think this chapter is my favorite so far. I really hope you guys like it, because I enjoyed writing it and had you guys in mind when I did.**

**There are, I think, two parallels/references to their relationship on the show in this chapter - I will give a shoutout (and maybe even a teaser) to anyone who can tell me both of them, including which episodes they're from. Bonus points if you can pick out the line that, in the show, Spencer says to Emily.**

**Shoutouts this chapter to ****in another world**** for being interested in my other story, to ****insertnameherex**** for actually reviewing it, and to ****Runawaybaby555**** for finally getting around to reading this. ;)**

**Now, I have an absolutely horrible day coming up (early start, long hours) so it would be great if I could wake up to some lovely reviews from you equally lovely Spoby fans. Send me enough love to get me through the day, and I'll see what I can do about getting the next chapter up ASAP.**

**In the meantime, enjoy. Until next time...**

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"Are you sure you don't want me to come?" Emily asks, handing over the slip of paper. "I could help make sure you get the right place."

Toby shakes his head, his eyes drifting past her shoulder and landing on Aria, who's impatiently waiting by Emily's car. "You've got your own things to do," he says amiably. "I've got this."

Emily bites her lip, seemingly torn between going with Aria and helping Toby. After a quick glance back at her girlfriend, who's all smiles and bright energy, she relents. "Okay. Call me if you find anything?"

"Of course."

The words have barely left his mouth before Emily scampers of to her girlfriend, and the two march hand-in-hand out the school gates. Then he climbs onto his bike, tucking the slip of paper into his pocket, and rides out of school. He's not entirely sure this is a good idea, but no one's heard from Spencer in over a week, and he figures since someone needs to find out what happened it may as well be him.

The problem was that nobody knew her address. What he has in his pocket is a list of clues that Emily can remember about Spencer's house. She'd told them a bit about it, mentioning what it looks like and roughly where it is, but she hasn't been here long enough to memorize the actual street and number. It's not too far from the school, so it doesn't take him long to get to roughly the right place – the street next to a church and behind an old bowling alley, according to Emily's intel.

He slows down, doing a lap of the cul-de-sac before jumping down from his bike and leaning it against a fence so he can look at the note again. There are only a few points, but it should be enough to identify the house. There's a flower garden below the windows – Spencer had talked about how sometimes she and her mother weeded it together and her father would bring them lemonade. Purple drapes in the front windows, the same color as the shirt she wore the first day of school. A mailbox in the shape of a cat and a white picket fence out the front.

It only takes a minute to locate the house, but it takes another five to talk himself into approaching it. He wheels his bike beside him, the wheels making a gentle clicking noise as they roll over the pavement, and his heart making a much less comforting thudding sound. He hopes nothing has happened – it's Rosewood, after all; aside from that one murder, the town hasn't seen any major tragedies – but there's something about Spencer that makes him worry. He wonders if it's because he knows she's gone through something terrible, and even though lightning never strikes twice, tragedy often does.

Yet logic tells him that it's probably something simple, something trivial. And if it is, what will she think of him, turning up unannounced at her doorstep? He can only hope she'll see the action for what it is – an innocent visit inspired by concern, rather than anything more sinister. In a way he feels like he's always trying to sidestep her ghosts, but he's never entirely sure where or what they are. She's been through something unspeakable, and if he wants to avoid hurting her, he needs to tread carefully.

When he reaches the picket fence he stops, gently leans his bike against it, and walks slowly up to the front door. Before he can even knock, the door swings open and he's met with the sight of a girl much younger than he'd anticipated and much less welcoming than he'd hoped. She's well-dressed, in a simple gray pant suit, her hair swept back in a bun and one perfectly shaped eyebrow raised in an expression that clearly says, _What are you doing here?_

She has the same slightly off-putting manner as Spencer, but where Spencer is guarded, this woman seems to be almost openly hostile.

"H-hi," Toby manages to choke out. "My name's Toby Cavanaugh. I'm – I'm a friend of Spencer's. Is she home?"

The girl sinks onto one hip, giving him a suspicious look. "How do you know her?"

He's taken aback by the intensity in her expression and the perceived challenge in her voice, but he does his best to keep his voice level as he replies, "From school. We have a couple classes together."

"Hm." The girl doesn't seem impressed, but at least now he knows he's at the right house. And she doesn't seem too stressed, only mildly irritated, so that's a good sign – if something had happened to Spencer, surely this girl would be more upset. "Well. Come in then. I'm not sure she's up to seeing visitors, but I'll go and check."

Toby follows her into the living room and sits down on the chair she gestures to, doing his best to seem unintimidated by the stateliness of the house. While the girl – who still hasn't introduced herself – goes upstairs, he looks around the room. The walls are an off-white, and the mantelpiece above the fireplace is decorated with trophies. There are a few photos hanging on the wall above it, mostly of Spencer with her parents and the girl who'd opened the door – he assumes it's her sister, given the photos and the physical resemblance. There's no mess on the floor, no clutter on the coffee-table, nothing out of place or looking even the slightest bit old. It's so different to his own house that he finds it hard to feel comfortable.

On the table in front of him is a bowl of fruit. Curious, he reaches out and picks up an apple. It's plastic, and even it is perfect: no blemishes, bright coloring, not a scratch anywhere on it. This house is eerily perfect, and it makes his skin prickle. To give himself something to do he tosses the apple up and down, catching it in one hand. When he hears footsteps on the stairs he hurriedly puts the apple back, and he whirls around to see the girl from before looking at him with either amusement or irritation – he's not quite sure.

"Spencer says you can go up and see her," the girl says, tilting her head as she looks at him. He wonders what she's thinking about; she looks at him intently, like she's trying to figure out if he has some ulterior motive. "She seemed almost excited to see you, actually."

She sounds confused and even curious – maybe Spencer doesn't get many visitors – but she doesn't ask any more questions.

As Toby stands up and goes to the stairs, she instructs, "Third door on the left," gives him one last look, and then settles down on the couch and starts flicking through a magazine.

Turning away from her, Toby makes his way up the stairs. Part of him wants to leave now – he knows Spencer is okay, and isn't that what he came here for? Then her sister's words echo in his head: _she seemed almost excited to see you_. Spencer wants to see him. He's not intruding, he's just a friend checking up on her.

Yet hesitation sets in again when he reaches her room. There's a gold 'S' hanging on the door, and he stares at it for a moment while he chides himself for being so hesitant. What's the worst that could happen? He reaches out and knocks on the door, then quickly withdraws his hand.

"Come in."

The voice is barely audible, but it's enough of an invitation. He scrunches up the piece of paper Emily gave him, and steps into the room. Spencer is lying in her bed, the covers pulled up to her chin and her hair falling around her shoulders. She looks pale and miserable, and Toby feels a pang of sympathy.

"Hi," she says, watching as he carefully leaves the door ajar and then stands there, unsure what to do. She gestures to the chair beside her bed. "You can sit, if you want."

He does, resting his hands on his thighs and wondering what to say. "I haven't seen you at school," he begins, and then he expects her to laugh at his stating the obvious.

Instead she spreads her arms wide, indicating the bed and her condition. "I haven't really been up to it," she says. "Go figure, I finally start talking again, even make new friends, and then I get knocked down by the flu."

Toby gives her a sympathetic smile. "So you've been stuck at home for a week?"

"Unfortunately. See this pile of books?" She points to the stack beside her, which is probably more than Toby has read this past year. "I've gone through all of them this week."

He raises his eyebrows, impressed. "You were that bored, huh?"

"Bored?" she echoes. "No. That's just a normal week for me."

Toby finds himself laughing – not because she's joking, but precisely because she's not. There are very few people he knows who would read such a large amount of books, and even fewer who would admit to it (Mona had once been so desperate to hide her intelligence, and her love of learning, that she'd hidden all her books under her bed so everyone visiting her house would just see the clothes and makeup on her shelves).

"So," she says, sitting up straighter and smoothing the bedsheets around her, "what brings you to my office?"

Now that he's here, it seems almost embarrassing to admit it. What had he thought, that she'd been kidnapped or something? Of course she's sick. That's the most common reason for teenagers to miss school, and it should have been his first instinct. But he feels like his senses are on high alert, and something about Spencer simultaneously puts him on edge and makes him feel calm. "I noticed you weren't at school, and I was… worried. I just came by to see if you were okay."

She frowns, and he can't tell if she's touched by his concern or trying to work out if he's for real. Finally she says, "You were worried?"

He ducks his head, scuffing the floor with the toe of one shoe. "Yeah."

"That's sweet," she says, her voice equal parts disbelief and wonder. "Did you think… something bad had happened?"

His eyes snap up to hers. Is he that easy to read? "I didn't… I mean, it's Rosewood. It's possible, after what happened here last year…"

It's only when Spencer's eyes darken that he realizes what he's said. He's just told the survivor of a traumatic experience that the town she moved into might not be as safe as she'd thought.

"I'm sorry," he says quickly. "I didn't mean to scare you -"

"It's okay," she interrupts gently, and he stops speaking at once. "I read about it, I think. A girl was murdered, right? Alison DiLaurentis?"

He's surprised she's heard of it, but then again, it's still pretty big news in Rosewood. It's the first murder the town's had in twenty years, and even though most of the hype has died down, people still talk about it.

"Did you know her?" Spencer asks.

Toby shrugs, thinking back to the few times they'd actually spoken. They had never been friends – he wasn't even sure she had friends; mostly she just had followers – but she hadn't exactly been a stranger either. "Not as well as people thought."

He's not sure whether it's the bitterness in his tone or the slight scowl on his face that gives him away, but Spencer picks up on his unease.

"What do you mean?"

At the question, Toby finds himself stiffening. He's used to interrogations and accusations, but this, being asked a question simply because somebody wants to know more about him – this is new to him. "After Alison went missing, some people thought… they thought that I…"

Even after all this time, the words stick in his throat. But Spencer puts the pieces together.

"They thought that you killed her?" Her eyes are wide, seemingly with horror.

He nods slowly, and prepares himself for her to withdraw. She's going to realize why people hate him, why he's an outcast, why for an entire week last year he'd come into school and found fresh graffiti on his locker, with words like KILLER and MURDERER spray-painted onto it. She's going to rethink her opinion of him, because who wouldn't? He shouldn't have told her – or maybe he should have told her sooner.

"That's crazy," she says at last, catching him completely off-guard. "You could never _kill_ someone."

He's so stunned that he's speechless for a moment; he meets her eyes and sees nothing but sincerity. Then he lets out a nervous laugh. "Well, it's good to hear somebody else say that."

Her apparent trust in him is overwhelming. He's barely known her a month, but she's been more loyal to him that half of his so-called friends. When Alison went missing – and then her body turned up - rumors started flying, and he was a prime target.

He'd never been incredibly popular, but he'd lost most of the few acquaintances he'd had. He was never sure whether they thought he was guilty, or whether they just wanted to avoid the potential backlash over being his friend. Caleb was the only one who'd resolutely stood by his side. He lets himself wonder for the briefest instant what it would have been like if Spencer had been in Rosewood when Alison was murdered – would she have stood by him? Or would she have abandoned him like everyone else?

She smiles at him, and he can't even find the words thank her for her confidence in him. Instead he seeks to change the topic of conversation, and his eyes fall on the book sitting on the top of her pile. He picks it up, flipping it over to read the back cover. "An anthology of the works of J. D. Salinger," he says. "Are you liking it so far?"

"Yeah," she replies, and he wonders if she's even capable of disliking a book. "Not quite as much as Catcher in the Rye, but it's still quite good."

"Catcher in the Rye is one of my favorites." Toby places the book back on the top of the pile, catching a glimpse of Spencer out of the corner of his eye. She doesn't quite manage to hide her surprise.

"You've read it?" she asks, and he can tell she's trying her best not to sound incredulous.

He enjoys the fact that he can apparently surprise her. "Four times," he says. "I want to re-read it, but the library lost their only copy."

Before he has time Spencer flings back the covers, murmurs, "Hang on," and hurries over to her bookshelf. She's a little wobbly on her feet, and he can see the toll this flu has taken on her. But her smile is bright when she turns back around, offering a leather-bound book. "Here," she says. "You can borrow my copy."

He starts to protest, but she comes over to him and puts it gently in his hands. It feels heavy but not unpleasant, and it smells the way a book should: slightly musty, familiar yet exciting. He tucks it close to his chest, no words enough to explain how much this means to him. That somebody like her, someone so far out of his league – just look at her house, with its perfect drapes and its clean carpet and its fancy upholstery – would trust him with something so significant to her (he can tell by the slight hesitation as she gives it to him that the book is important to her) means more than he can say.

"I'll take good care of it," he promises.

"I should hope so," she says, a teasing smile gracing her features.

The sudden exertion of retrieving the book seems to have worn her out, and she takes a deep breath, looking suddenly pale, and quickly climbs back into bed. And although Toby isn't really looking, he notices the way that the hem of her shirt catches on her sheets, riding up slightly as she pulls them back up. And as she does so, he sees the edge of something, a mark on her skin – a tattoo, or a scar? It looks deliberate, and although he can only see a couple of strokes, he doubts it came about through a simple fall or even an operation.

Then the sheets cover her again, and she looks at him pleasantly, unaware of his having seen more than perhaps she wanted him to see.

"So," she says, and he feels his heart flutter with expectation, "not that I'm not happy to see you, but since you took the effort to come all the way out to my house, please tell me you at least brought me my homework too?"

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**Thought I'd give your hearts a break. There are going to be many more cliffhangers, but I don't want to overwhelm you guys. :p**


	14. Return

**This is not one of my best chapters, and for that I apologize. I didn't want to keep you guys waiting any longer, and I didn't think I could ever perfect this chapter, so I figured I'd just put it up here and hopefully that will give me the push I need to get started on the next chapter. This one's from Spencer's POV, and of course there's a parallel. Points as usual to anyone who gets it. Thank you to everyone who favorited, followed, and most of all reviewed last chapter. You guys are awesome. Even if I don't reply to every review, I do read them all, and they mean a lot to me.**

**This week I've been a little distracted, and ended up writing a few one-shots centered around Spoby/Toby. If you feel like it, check them out: ****_Falsehood's Flame_****; ****_Blue Skies_****; and ****_His safe place to land_****. Be prepared to kind of have your heart ripped out though. And special thanks to everyone who reviewed any/all of those stories. As ****HurricaneRain**** pointed out, Spoby does appear to be growing on me quite a bit, and I have plans to write some more for them in the not-too-distant future.**

**Anyway. Enjoy this semi-filler chapter. I know how I want the next few chapters to pan out, and I'm quite excited for it, so I'm hoping those will make up for this. Oh, and while I'm at it, may as well mention that I'm still only planning the ending. So I was wondering, what kind of ending do you guys want? How much would you hate me if it was sort of tragic? I've got a few endings I'm tossing up between, and I think I know which one I'm going to go for, but I want to make sure I won't lose all of my fans if the ending isn't happy. So, let me know.**

**Now onto the chapter. Sorry again, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.**

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By Monday morning, Spencer is finally well enough to go back to school. She still feels a little shaky, and physical exertion soon makes a couple of her milder symptoms flare up, but she's already missed over a week of class and she can't afford to miss any more. Even if she could, she wouldn't want to – school is her safe haven, and now that she has a group to sit with she finds that lunch, which has always been her least favorite period, is almost enjoyable.

As she's sitting at the kitchen table and slicing an apple into equal parts, she hears footsteps on the stairs. She doesn't need to turn to know that it's her sister; she can tell by the way she walks, confident and with something close to a bounce. Spencer had been like that once – full of life and ambition. She doesn't like to think about that now.

"Good morning," Melissa greets her as she makes her way over to the fridge. "Sleep well?"

Spencer shrugs. Although she prefers not to speak about it, she knows that her family is aware of her nightmares. They'd started the very night she came home, and although they're less frequent now, they're not always less intense. Last night she'd only had one, and it hadn't been clear. There were shadowy shapes and a high-pitched wailing in the distance, and she'd woken up in a cold sweat. That was three hours ago, and she's spent the intervening time reading by the light of her lamp. If it weren't for coffee she probably wouldn't have enough energy to even get to school. "Okay, I guess," she says noncommittally.

"Dial down the enthusiasm, Spence," Melissa teases, sitting down across from her and dumping a spoonful of sugar into her coffee. Both girls watch steam curl off from the cup, eating their food and thinking their thoughts and drinking their coffee. "So," Melissa says, taking a sip, "do you have any classes with Toby today?"

Spencer's head jerks up and she looks at her sister, surprised. It's been so long since Melissa took an active interest in her life; although she knows her sister cares, mostly Melissa had been so unsure around her that she'd taken to keeping her at a distance. It had been worst in the first few weeks after she was home, after… everything. Melissa had so desperately wanted to help her, but any time she spoke to her Spencer burst into tears. Spencer had felt bad about it, but time went by and she still couldn't bring herself to say a word, let alone explain to her sister how sorry she was and how much she needed her help.

She's never been able to admit to anyone that she needed help. It's not that she thinks she can handle everything by herself – it's that she thinks she should be able to. And in forcing herself to do it alone, she hopes that she'll rise to the challenge and achieve things she would otherwise never have even attempted. Still, there are times when it would have been wiser to seek help. That night in August, for example, when her sister had found her standing on the bridge with her arms outstretched, toes curled over the edge, and tears streaming down her face.

She shouldn't need help, she should be independent and self-sufficient, and so her first response to her sister's question is to shut down. "Why do -" she starts to ask, answering a question with another question being one of her favorite tactics. But then she sees Melissa's face, the sincerity in her expression, and reminds herself that her sister is only trying to be friendly. She clears her throat and says instead, "Yeah, a couple."

"Hmm." Melissa runs a finger along the rim of her cup. "He seems nice."

Spencer can see the sideways look her sister is giving her, but she chooses to ignore it. She busies herself by taking her empty cup to the sink. As she scrubs it out, Melissa says from behind her, "I thought you didn't really like anyone at school. You seemed to think they were shallow or something."

After she'd first started speaking again, her entire family had been in such shock that _they_ hadn't spoken for at least ten minutes. Then they'd bombarded her with questions, apparently hoping that if they kept her talking for long enough she'd break through her own barriers and connect with the world again. They seemed to think that if she stopped talking for even an instant it would mean a full regression. When the questions finally subsided she'd trudged up to her room and collapsed on the bed, worn out and inexplicably terrified.

But gradually she became more used to talking, and once Melissa was sure this wasn't some attempt to make them stop worrying about her, that she was really truly making an effort to move forward, she'd started talking to her more. They'd never really been close, but these past few weeks they've had a few good conversations. Spencer asks about Melissa's new internship in the mayor's department, and Melissa asks Spencer about school. Has she made any friends yet? Is she liking the classes? How are the teachers? They talk about books they've read and movies they've seen, and Spencer can almost imagine that she's just a normal girl.

She turns back to Melissa now, thoughtful. She doesn't like most of the people in her year – they seem superficial, concerned with popularity and things she long ago stopped caring about. But Toby, and the rest of his group – Caleb, Mona, even Hanna – aren't the same. She doesn't quite feel comfortable around them yet, but she would only hesitate ever so slightly to call them _friends_. "He's different," she says softly, and she can _feel_ how true that is.

Melissa cocks her head, giving her a measured look. "How?"

"There's something about him that's… I don't know."

"Wow." Melissa gathers her bag from her feet, dumps her empty cup into the sink, and gives Spencer a smirk. "A question even Spencer Hastings can't answer."

Then she tosses Spencer a smile and flounces from the room. Spencer is tempted to sit here a while longer, but then she catches sight of the time and realizes she has to get going. She finishes getting ready, humming to herself; now that she's started talking again, silence is almost unbearable at times. She tries not to remember how she used to fill the silence when she was… away. Despite countless therapists telling her not to repress and to let herself _feel_ and _heal_ and _move on_, she can't quite bring herself to relive those seemingly endless days locked in that cabin.

All thoughts of That Time flee from her mind as she arrives at school, where Hanna and Mona greet her immediately and start babbling on about the Rosewood Charity Ball and who they're going with and what they're going to wear. Hanna is going with Caleb, of course, and Mona has managed to snag a date with Noel. Spencer smiles and congratulates them, and for just a moment wonders who Toby is going with.

The other development, aside from Mona's love life, is the fact that the people in charge of Rosewood High have decided that 'given recent events and some upsetting incidents' they're going to hold a Getting To Know You weekend, to which Spencer's entire grade is invited – and expected to attend. Nobody seems thrilled about it, but to Spencer the thought is terrifying.

She's only just become vaguely comfortable around her peers; she's only had one panic attack the whole time she's been at school, and she'd like to keep it that way. But the thought of staying here overnight, in the dark, with all these people she hardly knows, is enough to make her heart palpitate wildly and her palms start to get sweaty.

"You okay, Spencer?" Mona asks at lunch, frowning at her because she can't understand why a GTKY (the administration seems to think that kids these days respond more positively to acronyms than full names – thankfully they're not tacky enough to give it a slogan at least) weekend would be such a big deal.

"I'm fine," Spencer says, but she knows the others aren't going to buy it.

"Are you -" Mona starts, presumably intending on finishing with 'sure?' or 'okay?', but she's interrupted by the arrival of Toby and Caleb.

Spencer nods in greeting to both of them, using the temporary distraction to end the conversation with Mona. She may be speaking again, but that doesn't mean she can talk about her feelings or her fears or anything of more consequence than a homework assignment or a sale at the mall.

As the boys get settled, she notices the tip of a very familiar leather-bound book sticking out the top of Toby's backpack. There's a bookmark in it, about a quarter of the way through, which means he must have read some over the weekend. He catches her eye, sees what she's looking at, and smiles. She thinks back to his visit to her house while she was sick, and it makes her insides squirm a little – but she doesn't know if it's because she hates that she saw her so vulnerable and unwell, or because she's still pleased that he came to check up on her. And she wonders if she's happy anyone came to check on her, or because it was him specifically. Would she have felt the same if it had been Hanna, or Emily?

She doesn't let herself think of that for too long. Conversation flows around her, and for now she's content to let it wash over her. She'll answer when someone asks her a question and laugh at all the right points, but she doesn't contribute much. And unlike her parents, who even now pester her to talk at every opportunity, her group (_friends_, she reminds herself) are just happy she's there. It's a strange feeling, being accepted without being expected to have something to say in response to everything, or have an answer to every question or a solution to every problem. It's almost relaxing. And, for the first time in a long time, Spencer can almost remember what it feels like to have friends.

But when she gets home that afternoon and sees who's waiting on her doorstep, she remembers why she gave up on having friends in the first place.

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**Sorry for the cliffhanger. I didn't intend to end it that way, but this ****_visitor_**** just kind of snuck up on me. You'll find out who it was in a couple of chapters, so stick with me (and feel free to leave your guesses in reviews). See you next time!**


	15. Partner

**Important: even if you don't normally read my A/Ns, please read this one.**

**I haven't seen the 4A finale, and will not be watching it until Friday. I do not want to find out ANY spoilers. You guys are usually pretty good, but please just be careful not to give anything away in your reviews. I don't care what happens in the finale, I don't care how it affects how you read this story, I don't want to know anything. If in any of my reviews somebody gives me a spoiler, my next update won't be until the Halloween episode because that's how long it'll take me to get over it. Okay? Great.**

**Now that that's out of the way, thank you guys SO much for getting me to 200 reviews! Over 50 favorites, almost 100 follows, and over 200 reviews. I am speechless. I can't even tell you how much that means to me. You guys are the best, you really are. I never thought I'd be writing Spoby, but I'm so glad I am.**

**Shoutouts this chapter to The. Velvet. ****Dusk**** for getting that I stole the idea for GTKY from Truth Up Day, and to ****pll-addiction**** - hearing you call this story your safe place to land is probably one of my finest moments as a writer. I can't even tell you how much that meant; I honestly don't even have the words, and you know me, I have something to say about everything. Just, thank you so so much. And thank you to everyone for your opinions on the ending. I'm still working it out, but at this stage I can't rule out the possibility of character death - it's me, after all. But I might be able to balance my tragedy with your happy Spoby desires, so we'll see.**

**So far, nobody has correctly guessed who was at Spencer's door. So keep on guessing! If you get it right in your review, I'll PM you with a spoiler/teaser for the upcoming chapter, so have at it.**

**Finally, you're about to get some real answers. In the next few chapters, you'll find out: why Jenna was sent away; who was at Spencer's doorstep; why Toby's been carrying around that piece of wood; a bit about what happened to Spencer in the cabin; and why somebody called Toby 'Lady Killer'. Are there any other burning questions you guys have? I can try to answer them as soon as I can.**

**All right. This has been one MASSIVE A/N, so if you read the whole thing, you deserve a cookie or something. Alas, all I have to offer is this chapter, but I hope it's good enough. Let me know what you think, and I'll see you next update. :)**

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"I don't see why this is necessary." Toby is standing by the sink, his back to his father who is sitting at the table, casually reading a newspaper and insisting that Toby take Jenna to school.

"I already signed the permission forms," Mr Cavanaugh says. "This Getting To Know You weekend or whatever it is sounds like a good idea, and I think it will -"

"Not that," Toby interrupts, setting down the sponge he'd been using to clean out his bowl and turning to face his father. "I don't see why I need to drive Jenna to it. She has friends, doesn't she?"

"Yes, and she also has a brother who will lose his workshop privileges if he doesn't drive her to school today."

Toby resists the urge to roll his eyes, but he does mutter, "_Step_brother."

Either his father doesn't hear it or decides to ignore it, because he just turns his attention back to his paper and says in a voice that makes it clear he's not to be argued with, "You should leave in a few minutes if you want to get there in time."

Frustrated, Toby makes his way up to his room. Apparently it's not bad enough he has to go to school on a Saturday; he also has to drive his insufferable stepsister there. His father is still convinced they're going to become the best of friends, and keeps throwing them together every chance he gets: asking them to do the dishes, inviting them to go bowling with him, encouraging them to study in the living room together each afternoon. Toby can't understand where he's coming from. After everything that happened last year, he'd have thought his father would have wanted them to stay as far away from each other as possible.

"Leaving in five minutes," Toby says, knocking on Jenna's door. He doesn't wait for a response before he goes to his own room, shoving some clothes and a toothbrush into a bag. He's not sure what this GTKY weekend will involve, but they were told to bring paper, a pen, and some kind of object that's significant to them.

His eyes sweep around the room. Most of what he has is easily replaceable and not very dear to him. He doesn't have many toys, or possessions at all really, and the few things he has that he really likes are too big to take into school – the chair he made last year, or the wooden sculpture of a tree (which he made partly for the irony). He shoves his hands in his pockets and sits on the bed, thinking about what to bring. Then his fingers brush up against the small block of wood he keeps in his pocket, and he realizes that they never said it had to have a positive significance. This piece of wood definitely means something to him, even if it's not something he'll easily share.

That problem sorted, he gets to his feet again and grabs his overnight bag. He's halfway to the door before he glances back, and sees his backpack. Spencer's copy of The Catcher in the Rye is poking out the top, his bookmark about four fifths of the way through. He's been reading it every day after school, and sometimes during his free periods; once he even tried to read it at lunch, but Caleb teasingly told him off while Spencer giggled and Hanna rolled her eyes.

He hesitates just a second, and then reaches down and picks it up. As he places it gently in his bag, tucking it between a pair of jeans and a clean shirt so it won't be damaged, he's reminded of how strange Spencer has been acting this week. The first day she was back, she seemed like she was okay. She's over her flu now, but she still doesn't seem like herself. On Tuesday she was strangely quiet; not mute-for-two-years quiet, but there's-something-I'm-not-saying quiet. He'd tried to find her alone so he could ask if everything was okay, but she'd been hard to pin down. He can't shake the feeling that maybe she's been avoiding him, because aside from a few quick conversations, she hasn't really spoken to him all week. Wednesday she seemed brighter, but she still wouldn't meet his eyes. He tried asking Mona if she knew what was wrong, but neither she nor Hanna had any idea. Emily and Aria hadn't noticed any difference in her, which means that it was probably something to do with his group – or him.

As he knocks on Jenna's door again, threatening to leave without her if she's not ready, he contemplates what he possibly could have done to make Spencer so distant. Had he said something? Done something? Neglected to say or do something he should have? Is he being selfish or paranoid in thinking that he could have caused such a pronounced effect?

Jenna emerges from her room with an uncharacteristically bright smile on her face. "All set," she announces, and leads the way downstairs.

Toby follows without a word. He's equal parts relieved and confused by Jenna's attitude; she's rarely this happy, which automatically makes him suspicious, but it also means he won't have to endure any of her sulking or moodiness.

"So, are you looking forward to getting to know your peers?" Jenna asks as Toby pulls out of the driveway.

He gives her a sideways look, silently trying to communicate how irritated he is by her attempt to initiate conversation. He considers not answering her, but if he doesn't at least try to play along Jenna will probably report back to their parents that he's being difficult and his father will probably lock him out of the workshop anyway. Digging his nails into the steering wheel, he replies neutrally, "It should be interesting."

She laughs, as if he's said something funny rather than bordering on cynical. "It certainly should be."

Apparently Toby's stony gaze, which he keeps locked on the road ahead, is enough to deter her from asking any more questions. By the time they reach the school Toby is already tempted to turn around and drive right back home, but the permission slips are all signed and if he doesn't turn up now the school will call his father. He pulls into the parking lot, still thinking about how every single move on his part seems to lead to the threat of having his workshop privileges taken away, and is taken by surprise when somebody taps on his window.

"Toby!" Caleb exclaims, opening the car door and waiting for him to get out. "I checked the roster, and apparently we're in the same group. Sign-up's in the cafeteria, and then our first activity is in the chem labs for some reason."

He waits while Toby gets his bag out of the trunk, and neither of them even look at Jenna as she grabs her own bag and marches off towards the building. They wait a few seconds before following.

"Your dad still insisting you guys hang out?" Caleb asks, and he frowns when Toby nods his head. "It's like he expects things to go back to 'normal'. Like he wants you to just kiss and make up or something."

Toby's step falters slightly, and he can sense the exact moment Caleb realizes how unfortunate his choice of words was. The other boy's frown turns into a look of mortified horror.

"I didn't mean -"

"It's fine," Toby interjects. He knows why Caleb feels awkward; he's one of few people who knows the full extent of what happened last year. Or at least as full an account as Toby had been prepared to give. Not many other people would have been able to understand why Toby had internally flinched at the wording.

Caleb looks like he wants to reply, but they've reached the building and are now caught up in the tide of Rosewood High students heading to the cafeteria. The babble of talk is too loud for the boys to be able to hear each other, so they just trudge along with the rest. Once Toby gets his group assignment – Group C, which means they get to start with 'trust exercises and truth activities' – he and Caleb make their way to the chem lab.

It's almost full by the time they get there, so they slide into two empty seats at the back and try not to show how much they dislike being here. From past experience Toby knows that teachers tend to zero in on the people who look the least pleased, and he'd be content just to get through this weekend without drawing any attention to himself.

After a few minutes the teacher walks in, and Toby recognizes it as Mrs Montgomery, Aria's mother. He's glad it's her and not someone like Mr Applebee, with whom he seems to always be on bad terms even though as far as he can remember he's never misbehaved in his class, or Ms Gold, who tends to quote obscure literature and then get offended when nobody gets it. Mrs Montgomery is nice enough, and should make this first activity bearable at least.

She comes to a stop behind the desk at the front of the room, surveys the collection of students in front of her, and gives them a resigned sort of smile. "All right, everyone. I know you guys don't want to be here, but if you work with me this won't be nearly as painful as you're expecting it to be. If we get through the activities quickly – and honestly – then you might get some extra time for lunch. If, on the other hand, you choose to fool around or play games, I have been given the authority to cut your lunch hour in half, and I will not hesitate to do so. Are we clear?"

An assortment of nods and mumbles of agreement seem to be all she needs as confirmation, because she nods curtly, and then reaches into her bag and starts searching through it. She pulls out an envelope, which she passes to the person in front of the class.

"This envelope contains each of your names," Mrs Montgomery says. "You will each pull out one name at random, and your task is to find that person, and find out one interesting fact about them. Understood?"

She waits for the class to agree, and then leans against her desk while the envelope makes its way around the class. Caleb draws out James Littleton, who's a skinny kid with a bad haircut and an even worse attitude, and then hands the envelope to Toby, who glances around the room before sticking his hand inside and pulling out a piece of paper. There's not really anyone he'd want to find out anything about in this class; he can't see anyone else from his group, or even Emily or Aria. With a shrug he pulls out a name and passes the envelope on.

"Who'd you get?" Caleb asks, peering over Toby's shoulder as he unrolls the piece of paper.

"Lucas," Toby replies, looking around the room. Lucas is sitting by the window, staring out it with a vacant expression. He's looking about as interested as Toby feels.

The envelope finishes its rounds and Mrs Montgomery claps her hands and tells them all to get to it. Toby reluctantly gets to his feet and weaves through the crowd until he reaches Lucas, who hasn't moved and doesn't even look up when he approaches.

Toby clears his throat and holds up the slip of paper with Lucas' name on it. "I got you," he said. "Tell me something interesting about yourself."

Lucas turns to face him, his dark hair falling into his eyes and his expression a mixture between boredom and disdain. Toby is almost offended until he realizes it's directed at this activity and this whole GTKY weekend, not him. "I make and sell model airplanes," Lucas says. "Currently I have a collection of about fifty, but I'm about to sell around half of them. I use the money I get from them to buy more photography equipment so I can follow my dream of becoming a world-renowned underwater photographer, falling in love with a mermaid, and ruling my own underwater kingdom."

"How much of that was true?" Toby asks. He hasn't spoken to Lucas in a while, and he'd almost forgotten about the other boy's sense of humor.

Lucas laughs, and Toby joins in. So maybe not all of his peers are so bad.

"The first part is true," Lucas says. "About the model airplanes. Not so much the underwater palace."

"Shame. It sounded like a pretty cool dream."

"Doesn't it though?" Lucas says, still laughing. Then he sighs, getting to his feet and pulling his piece of paper out of his pocket. "I suppose I should go find my person. See you."

As soon as Lucas trudges off, Toby is approached by one of the girls from the field hockey team (her name is Joanna, he thinks, or it could be Julia; he's not sure), and he tells her about his carpentry and how one day he thinks he'd like to work in construction. She nods, satisfied, and leaves. He goes back to his seat, and a moment later Mrs Montgomery calls the activity to a close.

"I'm not going to be asking about the facts you found out, but you will be expected to remember them," she says cryptically. "You'll understand later. Now, it's time to move onto the next activity. This time the envelope I'm passing around has a set of numbers, two of each. There seems to be an even number, so this should effectively split you up into pairs. This is a trust exercise, and I'll explain how it works once you're in your pairs."

She hands around the envelope, and Toby draws out the number four. Caleb pulls out a seven, and he looks around to see who else has it. Once people draw out their numbers they hold them up, so their partner can find them. Caleb's partner is a girl called Tracy, who's sitting up the back. He catches her eye and she waves, beckoning him over.

"Good luck," Caleb mumbles as he goes over to her.

Toby looks down at his number and then back up again. He scans the room, and then he sees who else has the number four. His luck is not as good as Caleb's. Because the person Toby is paired with is none other than Chris Miller, the guy he'd punched at Noel's party because he threatened Spencer. This is not going to be fun.

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	16. Trust

**All right, so first of all, I've decided I'm just going to make this my regular update day. I don't think I can manage more than one update a week (I know, I know, I'm sorry) so I may as well make it official. That way I can balance writing and my studies and everything else... I hope.**

**Second, thanks to everyone for not ruining the finale. Still trying to process everything that happened in 4x12. And a massive thank you to everyone who's followed - I've reached over 100. Wow, just wow. Shoutout to ****TeamSpobia167**** for finding your way back to this story, and another huge thank you to all the reviews last chapter. Next chapter there will be more Spencer/Toby interaction, so stick with me.**

**Third, I'm working on some other stories at the moment. Thanks to everyone I've seen over in ****_C'est la guerre_****, my A-Team Spoby fic, and in my one-shots from the other week. If you like my writing, feel free to check out my other works.**

**Finally, I hope you enjoy the chapter, and I'll see you all next week!**

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Chris stares at Toby, and Toby stares at Chris, and the rest of the class goes about their business, oblivious to the tension rising in the corner. Gradually a couple of people glance over, and they're clearly aware of what went down between the two boys. It's common knowledge in the school by now; not many people have taken Chris on, and even fewer have come out on top, so Toby is semi-famous in the halls of Rosewood High. But Chris still has some supporters, and Toby notices a couple of people looking his way and clenching their fists as a warning.

"So," Toby says, meeting Chris' eyes and resisting the urge to punch him again. "I guess we're working together for this one."

"Looks like," Chris replies, refusing to look away until Toby does.

"Let's get this moving, guys," Mrs Montgomery encourages, gesturing for the class to hurry up and get into their groups. "This one's a short exercise, and there's only two more after it. So if we get through them quickly you can go to lunch early. How does that sound?"

Reluctantly Toby sits down in the nearest seat, and Chris sits beside him. They've gone from staring each other down to refusing to look at each other, and Toby can feel tension prickle along his skin. The last time he'd been this close to Chris, his fist had been connecting with the other guy's face. As far as he knows Chris hasn't given Spencer any trouble since then, but that doesn't lessen his antagonistic feelings towards the guy.

"So for this activity," Mrs Montgomery explains, "you'll all be required to place a certain amount of trust in your partner. I assume you all brought your significant items?"

A few people nod, a couple even produce their objects from their pockets or bags, and most, like Toby and Chris, just stare at Mrs Montgomery and silently hope that she gets this over with soon.

"The idea of this exercise is quite simple," she says. "You are to hand over your significant object to your partner. Don't explain what it is or why it means something to you. They have to take it on faith that it's important – and you have to trust that they'll take good care of it. You can ask for your object back at any time, but the sooner you do so the less of a reward you'll get – and I'm not just talking about that warm fuzzy feeling you get from trusting someone and not having them let you down. At the end of this week, anyone who still has their partner's significant object will be given a surprise reward."

Someone in the front row raises their hand and asks, "It's chocolate, isn't it?"

Mrs Montgomery chuckles. "Yes, it is," she admits unabashedly. "Now, I'll give you five minutes to swap over your objects, another five to talk about your feelings or whatever it is you're meant to be doing, and then we'll move on to a few other activities. Off you go."

There are many ways Toby would like to be spending his Saturday. On the top of the list is carpentry, hanging out with Caleb, or even sleeping; right down the bottom, beneath getting stung by scorpions and disembowelled by rabid dogs, is this. Handing over something to Chris Miller, one of the last people Toby would ever want to talk to.

"Here." Chris digs into his pocket and pulls out a small toy race car. It's bright blue with a yellow stripe down the side, and it looks old, liked it's been used and loved and kept for a long time. "The last present my dad gave me before he was deployed," Chris offers by way of explanation, despite the fact Toby hasn't asked for any. He hands over the car, and Toby finds himself handling it gently, resting it on the table and admiring it. "If you break it, I will kill you."

Rather than responding to this, Toby runs a finger along the car, allowing himself to briefly wonder about Chris' past. Then he pulls out his own significant object, the block of rough wood. He gives it to Chris without a word. The story behind it isn't something he wants to get into with anyone, not even Caleb and especially not Chris.

"So what is this?" Chris asks, holding it between his thumb and forefinger and staring at it like he's looking for a hidden message or secret switch. "Some kind of momentum?"

"Memento," Toby corrects. "And yes."

"Of what?"

Over the years, Toby has mastered the art of ignoring people. It's not that he's malicious; it's just that if he wasn't good at tuning people out and making it clear that he doesn't want to talk, he would have been subjected to even more boredom, bullying, and other less than appealing things. Now he folds his arms, fixes his gaze on a smudge of ink just below the window, and says firmly, "It doesn't matter."

Chris opens his mouth, and then closes it again. Toby's body language is enough to deter him from asking any more questions. "Whatever," he says with a shrug. "I'll keep it safe."

He tucks it into his pocket, and Toby slides the car into his bag, and they fall back into tense silence. Mrs Montgomery does a lap of the room, checking that everyone is swapping their items, and then she glides up to the front and claps her hands to get everyone's attention. "Okay, everyone. Well done on successfully completing this exercise. Only three more and you can go to lunch. The first one is pretty fun, and I'm sure you're all familiar with it. We gather in a circle, and each say three facts about ourselves – only two of them true. Everyone else will take turns guessing which one is false. Since this room is a little crowded, I thought we'd move outside for this activity. So, follow me."

She leads the way out of the room, and it takes half a minute for most of the class, who have been daydreaming or whispering to each other, to realize she's gone. Then they hurry from their seats and scurry outside, eager for fresh air and any excuse not to be inside a classroom. Toby falls into step beside Caleb, deliberately leaving a lot of space between himself and Chris.

"I bet that was a bucket-load of fun," Caleb comments, nodding his head toward Chris, who is muttering to his friend - presumably about Toby.

"So much fun," Toby replies, rolling his eyes. "What significant object did your partner give you?"

Caleb waggles his finger disapprovingly. "Now, now, that's not the way to engender trust."

"_Engender_?" Toby repeats, raising an eyebrow. "What are you, Spencer?"

Caleb snickers, but his face becomes more serious as they skirt around another group, who are passing a tennis ball around their circle. "What's up with her, anyway?" Caleb asks. "I mean, I know she's normally quiet, but she's been kind of… distant lately."

"I don't know." Toby watches as one of the students in the other group races off to get the ball, stumbles over a rock, and quickly glances around to see if anyone saw. "It's like she's not really here, you know? Even when I'm talking to her, I can never tell if she's actually listening."

"Deep," Caleb says, with a laugh that's halfway between sympathetic and patronising. "Maybe you should talk to her, though. Ask her what's really bugging her."

"What if she doesn't tell me?" Toby asks. "And on that note, what if she _does_? I'm not equipped to deal with…"

He trails off, caught between saying 'girls', 'emotions', and 'life'.

"Then you talk to her," Caleb says. "Be there for her. You're friends, right? That's what friends do."

"Right." Toby follows Caleb around the building; Mrs Montgomery has apparently decided that the back parking lot is the best place to play some kind of trust game or do a truth exercise or whatever it is this GTKY weekend is supposed to be about. As he does, Toby has a sudden vision of himself talking to Caleb about emotions and life and philosophy, and he suppresses a laugh.

They gather around in a circle, and Toby tunes out as Mrs Montgomery goes over the rules of the game again. She demonstrates, and the students all manage to pick out her lie; she does not, it turns out, have a strategically placed mermaid tattoo. But it's enough to get the ball rolling and make people laugh, and Tracy volunteers to have the first turn. When it gets to Toby's turn, he realizes he hasn't come up with anything. He racks his brain, aware that the rest of his group is staring at him.

"When I was five, I had a pet hamster called Captain Breadcrumb," he says slowly, beginning with the easiest: the truth. Well, the truth is supposed to be easy, although in his experience it tends to be more difficult than people let on. "My stepsister tried to kill herself last year, and my dad thought it was my fault. And, I would rather be at home doing carpentry than stuck at school on a Saturday."

A titter of laughter follows his words, but most people are too caught up on the middle section of his confession. Mrs Montgomery's mouth is slightly parted, like she's not entirely sure this has just happened, and while she's busy processing it the students are busy reacting to it.

"Is he allowed to say that?"

"Is it even _true_?"

"Didn't _he_ try to kill her?"

"Toby -" Mrs Montgomery says cautiously.

"Sorry," he mumbles, his sudden burst of courage deflating. He doesn't know what made him say it; maybe he's still put off by having to work with Chris, and he's in an argumentative mood. Maybe part of him is hoping that if someone argues he'll be able to take a swing at them. In retrospect punching Chris had been a very effective way to release his anger, but he wouldn't do that unprovoked. Not usually, anyway.

He raises his eyes and scans the group, waiting for someone to challenge him directly. A few people avert their gazes, and a few more mutter amongst themselves. Then Caleb says, "I'm calling bullshit. Your hamster wasn't called Captain Breadcrumb."

Toby is startled into laughter, and a couple of other people join in. "Yeah," Toby admits, "that one's fake. His name was actually Captain Butterball."

More laughter follows, including, to Toby's surprise, Chris. Even Mrs Montgomery seems amused. Then the mood becomes more serious again, and someone asks the question that Toby knew he'd have to answer. "So you didn't try to kill your stepsister?"

Mrs Montgomery steps forward, intending on intervening, but Toby holds up a hand to indicate for her to stop. "It's okay," he says, and she comes to a halt. He takes a deep breath, and faces his peers.

Rumors have been floating around ever since Jenna was carted off in an ambulance last year, and the leading theory at the time was that Toby had tried to kill her. It seems that even though people have stopped talking about it, not all of them have stopped thinking it. He's not sure why, but as he opens his mouth to set the record straight, he finds himself thinking for an instant of Spencer, of her conviction and her assurance that he could never do that.

"No," he says firmly, facing the group. "I didn't try to kill my stepsister last year. She tried to kill herself. I know you people don't trust easily, and you want to think the worst of me. But I didn't do that. So you can stop with your nicknames and your judgment and your accusing stares. And, just so you know, I also had nothing to do with the death of Alison DiLaurentis. The only thing I'm guilty of is apparently getting on your bad side, so throw stones if you want, but I'm not just going to stand here and take it."

Before anyone can react, he turns and starts to walk off. He's breathing hard, and he doesn't know where this outburst came from. But he knows it could easily escalate if he stays. He hears someone call his name from behind him, and then hurried footsteps. When the person is a step behind him he turns and sees Mrs Montgomery.

"I'm sorry," he says, embarrassed. After all this time he should be able to control his temper, and it frustrates him that it still gets the better of him sometimes. "I shouldn't have…"

"It's all right," Mrs Montgomery says, more gently than he can ever remember his stepmother speaking. "This weekend is all about opening up and being honest, and that's what you did."

He blinks. "So I'm not in trouble?"

"Well, I wouldn't recommend going about all of your activities in that manner, but for now I'll let it slide." She smiles at him, and he finds himself smiling back. "Now, I think that's enough honesty for the moment. Why don't you sit the rest of this activity out. Go wait in the locker room or the library or something, and I'll send someone to come and get you when we move on."

Toby's eyes widen. Is she really being so nice to him without some ulterior motive? Is he being _rewarded_ for telling the truth? He doesn't want to push his luck, so he just quietly thanks her and then slips off to the building without another word. He follows the silence, walking through the halls until the noises from GTKY activities fade away, and then he sits down on a bench to wait it out – and to contemplate the implications of what he's just done.

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	17. Scream

**What's the deal guys? Not many people reviewed last chapter (huge thanks to those that did), which was kind of a bummer, but I'm assuming it's because a lot of you started school/college/whatever and got busy, right? To those who did review, love you all, and to those who followed/favorited, welcome to the story!**

**Now, before this chapter, I have some news that many of you will not be pleased to hear. This will be my last update for a while. Due to some personal stuff that I'd rather not talk about publicly, I'm unable to continue with my writing at the present time. All of my stories will be put on hiatus, and I may stop replying to PMs as well. I'm not sure how long this is going to be for, and I don't want to make promises I can't keep. So I can only hope that you guys like this story enough to wait for it, because I WILL be continuing it when I can. So, keep reviewing, and I'll see you next time... whenever that is.**

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He's still contemplating when Caleb finds him twenty minutes later. Caleb takes one look at him, rolls his eyes, and gestures for him to follow. As they make their way back to the chem labs Caleb grumbles, "Why hasn't my tragic past ever gotten _me_ out of class?", to which Toby grins good-naturedly.

Despite this, he's still feeling uneasy. He knows he shouldn't have spoken out like that during the activity, and even though Mrs Montgomery didn't seem to mind, he doubts the rest of his group will be as forgiving. He's had to fend off rumors and accusations for so long that today he'd finally reached his breaking point – and now he's going to have to deal with the consequences. He can only hope that Jenna hasn't heard about this yet; that way he might be able to minimize the damage. His father had explicitly told him not to talk about his 'family circumstances' with his peers, and if he finds out Toby talked about it in the middle of a an entire group of them, he will definitely not be pleased.

Toby is prepared for backlash when he enters the chem labs, but he's not expecting what does happen: nothing. Aside from a couple of people watching him a little too intently, and one or two murmured comments, nobody reacts to his entrance. He slides into his seat beside Caleb, wondering why he's not feeling any more animosity than he's used to. Nobody seems to be paying him any more attention than usual, and he's partly confused but mostly relieved.

Mrs Montgomery gives him and Caleb a cursory nod as they sit down, not pausing in her explanation of their next activity, which is a written one where they have to respond to certain words and phrases she'll say. It seems easy enough, and, most importantly, won't involve any interaction with classmates.

"You all right?" Caleb asks, watching Mrs Montgomery shuffle through a pile of paper to find the right one.

"I'm fine," Toby replies.

Caleb cocks an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "You're wondering why no one's buzzing about your big reveal, aren't you?"

"When did you get to be so astute?"

"Probably about the time you started using words like _astute_," Caleb retorts, smirking. "And if you're wondering why no one is paying attention to you, it's probably because you were more interesting when they thought you did try to kill her. Now you're just another misfit and she's just another depressed teen and it's nowhere near as scandalous as they thought it was."

"So you're saying they were more interested in a lie than the truth?" Toby asks, lowering his voice as Mrs Montgomery starts reciting phrases for them to respond to on paper.

"Isn't everyone?" Caleb counters, and then he turns his full attention to the teacher and the activity, leaving Toby to ponder.

One long hour later, the first session is finally finished. They've filled out response sheets, repeated the 'interesting facts' they learned in an earlier activity, and then evaluated the activities. Now they're finally allowed to file outside and mingle with the rest of the groups, under strict instructions to be at their next meeting spot in an hour. Almost immediately Caleb makes a beeline for Hanna, leaving Toby standing by himself. Not all of the groups are out yet, and he can't find anyone he particularly wants to talk to. Eventually Toby settles for sitting in silence next to Lucas, who's dragging a fork through a salad with one hand and scrolling through his phone with the other.

Ten minutes later Toby's finished his food and is yet again bored; Lucas has wandered off to talk to someone else, so Toby is sitting at an empty table by himself. This whole weekend has been a waste of time, and judging by the unimpressed looks on a lot of his peers' faces he's not the only one who thinks so. He's debating getting up and going to the library for a while – since it's a special event it will be empty, and he can brood without anyone watching – when he sees a familiar figure bounce up to him.

"Hey," Emily says cheerfully, and then she steps to the side and Aria appears from somewhere behind her.

"Hi." Aria smiles at him, and then her attention is caught by something across the room. "Ooh," she says, lightly touching Emily's arm. "I'm just going to go talk to my mom for a minute. Catch up with you later?"

"Sure," Emily says, and Aria gives her a peck on the cheek before dashing off.

Toby shakes his head in amusement as Emily sits down beside him. "That girl has so much energy. How do you keep up with her?"

Emily grimaces. "Practice."

The two talk for a few more minutes, Emily alternating between peeling a banana and talking with her hands as she recounts her latest swimming triumph. She's almost finished describing her turn when Aria bounds back up, this time with someone else in tow.

"Look who I found," Aria announces, nudging Spencer forward. "I invited her to sit with us for lunch. Is that okay?"

"Sure," Emily says at once, standing up to make room for Spencer to sit beside Toby.

Before Toby can say a word, Aria and Emily have sat down across from him, and Spencer is – reluctantly, he can't help but notice – sliding into the seat beside him. He hasn't been this close to her in a while, but he doesn't even _feel_ close. He'd thought he was good at shutting people out, but Spencer appears to be an expert. She doesn't have to say anything for him to know that she doesn't want to talk to him; he can't even figure out what exactly it is, but it's like she's put an invisible barrier between them, like she's giving off an intense vibe to deter anyone from talking to her. Yet, he can't resist.

"Hi," Toby says hesitantly, and Spencer's eyes snap to his, her expression unreadable as always.

She doesn't speak at first, and turns her attention briefly to Emily and Aria, who are talking about a movie they saw the other day. Then she turns back to Toby and says, in a low voice, "I can't really talk right now."

She accompanies her words with a furtive look around the room, like she's expecting someone to be listening in. Some of her uneasiness passes to Toby, who shifts in his seat and half-expects someone to tap him on the shoulder and reprimand him for talking to Spencer – which is ridiculous. As Caleb keeps reminding him, Toby and Spencer are friends. That means he has every right to be speaking to her… even if it seems like she doesn't want to talk to _him_.

Toby wants to ask why she can't talk to him, or why she doesn't want to. He wants to ask if he's done something wrong, if he's let her down or failed her in some way. Instead what comes out is, "Are you okay?"

She hesitates, seemingly on the verge of pushing him further away and maybe letting him in a little bit. It's a good thing he doesn't dare to hope, because he'd only be disappointed when she says, "I'm fine, thanks," in a voice that brooks no argument.

At that point Aria and Emily draw her into their conversation, leaving Toby on the edge again. He looks around for Caleb, but there's no sign of him. He glances again at Spencer, who shows no sign of wanting to interact with him, and then he gets to his feet. He's used to feeling like an outsider, but this is too much.

"Toby -" Emily says worriedly.

"Where are you going?" Aria asks, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

Spencer says nothing, and neither does Toby. He just gives them a half-hearted smile and disappears through the crowd. When he reaches the first empty hallway he slows down, letting out a long breath. This whole day has been stressful enough, and he'd been hoping he could relax during his lunch hour. Apparently the universe has other plans for him today.

He's sitting by himself in the library when he hears an announcement over the PA system telling everyone that their activities will recommence in five minutes, and suggesting firmly that they start to make their way to their assigned areas. That doesn't seem like an enticing option, so Toby just leans back against the bookshelf and wonders if the window is open wide enough for him to be able to sneak through it. The windows in the library are notoriously squeaky, so he doesn't like the thought of opening it further; but maybe, if he held his breathe and twisted a little bit, he could just –

The sound of footsteps interrupts his thoughts. His eyes fly open and he scans the library, but it still seems empty. It's quiet for a moment before the footsteps start up again, more soft and hesitant this time.

"Hello?" he calls out.

Apparently in answer, a figure steps out from behind the nearest shelf. Spencer's twirling some hair around one of her fingers, clutching a thick binder with her other hand. She doesn't look surprised to see him, nor does she seem confused that he _is_ surprised.

"Sorry," says, automatically getting to his feet. He's not sure how to act around her anymore; something seems to have changed between them, and he can feel it but he can't figure it out. But he can sense that he needs to give her space. "Did you need to use the library for something? I can leave -"

"No," she says, not moving. The space between them seems to grow, even though neither of them takes a step away. "I was here looking for you, actually."

"Me?" Toby echoes. This is the same girl who practically refused to acknowledge him earlier. Why does she want to talk now? He briefly wonders if all women are this complicated – from what Caleb tells him, they are. He's suddenly grateful he's never been too interested in dating.

"Yeah," Spencer says. "I wanted to -"

Another announcement crackles over the PA system, telling everyone that they should now be at their next station.

Toby expects Spencer to dart off at once – she doesn't seem like the type to be okay with turning up late to anything – but she just stands there. But the announcement appears to have dissolved any courage she had, because she doesn't speak again. It's like she's lost her voice, and Toby, who knew her before she spoke, is struck again by how expressive her eyes can be - and how guarded.

"You wanted to…?" he prompts, hoping to get her to talk.

But the next person to talk isn't Spencer; it's Mr Henson, the librarian. He's standing at the door, giving the two a disapproving glare. "You should head off to your next activity," he says, and then waits there until Spencer and Toby reluctantly start moving towards the door.

To Toby's frustration, Mr Henson follows them to make sure they go to their correct rooms, and they're separated before Spencer can reveal whatever it is she was going to say. Internally cursing the gods of bad timing and misfortune, Toby heads to his next activity. But all throughout the afternoon, through trust exercises and sharing sessions and supposedly inspiring speeches, all he can think about is Spencer. What had she wanted to tell him? Why had she lost her nerve? Will she be able and willing to tell him, if he approaches her later?

The latter is a moot point, since he doesn't get a chance to talk to her again. By the time their afternoon activities have finished, the GTKY weekend coordinators have decided to split the girls and boys for bonding activities. News of his little outburst during the earlier activity has spread quickly through the groups, and by now everybody knows about it. And, like Caleb predicted, most are disappointed with this turn of events; when he was Toby the Lady Killer, accused of trying to kill his sister, he was news. Now that he's just Toby, with nothing but a suicidal sister and a bunch of falsified rumors to his name, he's barely even on the radar. In fact, the Lady Killer rumor has already been eclipsed; in one of the other groups, a guy supposedly declared his love for one of the girls, who immediately burst into tears and had to be excused.

By the time the bonding session has finished, Toby is so tired that he can't even consider going to find Spencer. It's barely nine o'clock, but his eyes feel heavy and his heart even more so, and all he can think about is laying his head down and going to sleep. He and Caleb talk for a few minutes while they set up their sleeping bags, but it seems that everyone is too tired for much more conversation. The hall, where they're all going to sleep, gradually becomes silent except for steady breathing and the occasional whispered word.

Not long after, Toby drifts off to sleep. And not much longer after that, he wakes up to a bone-chilling scream.

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**Sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger. Please don't hate me. I hope to see all you guys when I pick this story up again.**


	18. Summons

**Hey guys! Miss me? ;)**

**First, I want to thank you all for your unwavering support for this story, and for me, even though I'm just a stranger behind a computer screen. Without you guys I would have found these past few weeks even more difficult, and without all your enthusiasm for this story I may not have been able to continue it. But you've all been so wonderful that I couldn't possibly let you down, and so here I am to pick up my regular update schedule. I'm going to try to prewrite a bit, so that I can keep publishing during November (any NaNoers amongst my readers? You'll know what I'm talking about). I'll also be updating some of my other stories, so I hope to see some of you over in ****_C'est la guerre_****, and maybe even ****_Panic cord_**** or ****_Fearless_****, if you're a Hannily or Sparia fan.**

**Now, I'm sorry to have left you on such a cliffhanger, and I hope you guys are still with me! I also hope these next few chapters will make up for it, because there are some major Spoby developments. And without further ado, here is the long-awaited (?) next chapter of ****_Iridescence_****. Enjoy...**

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It takes a while for Toby's consciousness to catch up with him. He jerks upright, his eyes scanning the gloom for the source of the sound, but his mind is still caught up in the tendrils of his dream, and he can't make sense of what's happening. There's a flurry of movement towards the far wall, and then a light snaps on. Toby blinks in the harsh artificial light, and the moment his eyes adjust he feels his heart shudder. Spencer is pressed up against the wall, on her knees with her arms wrapped around herself, her eyes closed and her entire body trembling.

Amidst a few mumbles of 'What's going on?' and 'Who's screaming?' Toby scrambles through the mess of people crammed into the room until he reaches Spencer. Mona and Aria are already there, doing their best to comfort her, but Spencer is refusing to acknowledge them. Mona glances at him as he approaches, and then she backs up to let him get closer, knowing that he's the closest thing Spencer has to a friend.

"Spencer," he says gently, crouching in front of her. Despite the inexplicable tension between them today, he still cares for her, and he hates seeing her so scared. She doesn't respond to the sound of his voice, and he shares a worried look with Aria.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Aria prompts, reaching out to rest a comforting hand on Spencer's shoulder. She hesitates at the last moment and then withdraws her hand, evidently apprehensive about how the other girl would react.

"Spencer, are you okay?" Toby, who normally shies away from any physical contact or shows of intimacy, finds himself desperately wanting to wrap Spencer up in his arms and hug her until she calms down. "Can I get you anything, or help at all? Maybe -"

Suddenly Spencer opens her eyes, and Toby has the uncomfortable feeling that she's staring right through him. She looks frantic, and her breathing is so shallow he's scared she's going to start hyperventilating. Instinctively he leans forward, to ask again if she's okay, but then something happens that none of them were prepared for.

In an instant Toby is flung back into the past. The last time he and his father had tried the whole 'bonding' thing, they'd decided to go fishing. It had been a disaster, to say the least. The boat had capsized in the middle of the lake, dumping them both into bitingly cold water. Both of them knew how to swim, so in theory it shouldn't have been a problem – except that one of the ropes from the boat had wrapped around his father's ankle, pulling him under the water. And when the boat tipped over, Toby had hit his head on the side of it, so hard he still swears he blacked out for just a second.

And now, he feels the same. There's the moment of impact, and then there's nothing: no pain, no thoughts, no shock. It's like you're suspended in space, like the whole world is put on pause. And then it all hits you, one after the other: pain first, then an indignant sort of shock, and finally terror. He'd come to under the water, and desperately struggled to the surface. Once he'd freed his father's trapped ankle they'd swum to shore, and had to go to the hospital to treat their injuries. The doctors said they were 'very lucky' and 'it could have been much worse', but when you're looking at your father's broken ankle through the haze of your own concussion, it's hard to care.

Yet the injuries Toby receives now are far worse, and something that can't be treated in a hospital. Spencer focuses on his face for just a moment, and then her eyes widen in apparent terror. She's stopped screaming, but she still seems frantic. As Toby leans in, she scrambles back against the wall, lashing out with her foot. It connects with his ribs, and he lets out a startled moan as he topples backwards. "Get away," Spencer spits, in a voice that's so unlike hers – it's harsher, sharper, full of anger and fear. And, although he doesn't recognize it immediately, also full of hate.

Toby feels himself falling, but it also seems like the world's not moving. Everyone else is in shock, and nothing is registering in his own mind. It's like the moment when the boat went over, before the waves and the consequences close in. He stares at her, uncomprehending, his mind totally blank and his chest throbbing. Then Aria says "Spencer -" and Toby feels everything catch up to him. The pain from the impact, and, more than that, the _hurt_ from her pushing him away. He'd known they were on shaky grounds, but this? What could he have possibly done to deserve _this_?

There's no time to contemplate it, though, because the girls are quickly taking control of the situation. Aria is shooing away curious onlookers and doing her best to console Spencer; Emily has appeared from somewhere and is muttering soothing nonsense, which Spencer doesn't seem to hear. Mona grabs Toby's arm, pulls him to his feet, and marches him away.

"I didn't -" he begins, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of Spencer huddled up against the wall, almost in tears. "I thought -"

"I know," Mona interrupts, firmly but not unkindly. "Come on. Let's get you out of here."

Silently he follows her out of the room and down the hall. She stops at the closest bench, gesturing for him to sit down. He does, still unable to understand what's transpired. He expects Mona to leave him, but instead she sits down beside him. A minute of silence passes, and Toby tries in vain to gather his thoughts; but they dance away from his reach, mocking him and his pain.

"I just wanted to help," he says finally, resting his head in his hands and staring morosely at the floor.

"I know," Mona says again. She clasps her hands in her lap and crosses one leg over the other, managing to look sophisticated even in her Sailor Moon pyjamas. "I don't know what happened back there, but I don't think it was your fault."

"You were there," Toby says, not looking up. "You saw what happened. She didn't force any of you guys away – she pushed _me_. It was deliberate, and it was personal."

"Well, the world doesn't always work that way. You don't always get what you deserve, and you don't always deserve what you get." She leans back again, giving him a sideways look that makes his skin tingle with apprehension even though he only sees her out of the corner of his eye. "Ali got what she deserved," she goes on slowly, watching him all the while for a reaction, ready to back off at once if she goes too far. "I know you didn't do it, and I'm not saying I'm glad she died. But the thing is, maybe in some way we're better off without her."

Toby finally raises his gaze. Mona is looking straight ahead now, her eyes slightly glazed and her face grim. "And here I thought you were trying to comfort me," he mutters. This talk of Alison makes him uncomfortable, but he's also grateful; after the initial flurry of shock and fear, and after a few people accused him of killing her, people had stopped talking about it so much – especially to him. To hear someone talk so candidly is unsettling but not entirely unwelcome.

"I am," Mona says calmly, turning her gaze to him again. "If you'd let me finish, I was going to explain how even though Alison deserved what she got, you don't. I've seen you, Toby. I've seen how you act around her. I've seen how much you care about her. And I think Spencer's seen it too. I don't think it was as personal as you seem to feel it was."

"How can it not be personal?" Toby argues. It's not that he wants to believe Spencer has something against him – it's just the only explanation that seems to make sense. "She pushed me and _only_ me away. How much more person can it get?"

"Context," Mona says cryptically, and waits for Toby to raise a quizzical eyebrow before she continues. "You have to remember where she came from. What she's been through."

"We don't know what she's been through," Toby points out. He notices that it's fallen entirely silent again. There had been a rush of activity after Spencer had screamed, and the gentle quiet of the night had been pierced by muffled whispers and more open questions. Everyone wanted to be a part of the action – except for Spencer, who, he imagines, probably didn't enjoy being the center of attention.

"Exactly," Mona says with a knowing look, like this is supposed to make some kind of sense.

Toby rubs his temples, suddenly tired of Mona's cryptic comments and vague attempts to help. He's not sure what time it is, but it feels late. After midnight at least, but it wouldn't surprise him if it was closer to sunrise than sunset. "Mona, not that I'm not appreciative of your efforts, but if you have something to say can you please just say it? It's late, I'm tired, and I don't have time for games."

If it were anyone else, they would probably be offended. But Mona is unusually patient tonight; she's normally quite calm, albeit passionate, but this whole thing with Spencer has brought out a gentler side to her. "My point," she says slowly, with only the faintest hint of condescension, "is that even though we count ourselves among Spencer's friends, we don't really know that much about her. We don't know what she's been through or why she is the way she is. But we've heard the rumors, and we know enough to know that she's… fragile. We don't really understand where she's coming from, so we can't jump to conclusions about why she does things – like pushing people away. Maybe there's something we don't know, something that happened to her to make her feel or think or see the world differently. Something that made her do what she did for a reason other than having something against you. Because, really, Toby, do you honestly think she hates you?"

Toby had always known Mona was smart – she topped almost every class she was in – but he hadn't known she was _smart_ smart. He'd kind of assumed that she was just book smart, because all he ever heard her talk about with Hanna was boys or clothes or other superficial things. He hadn't realized she had this well of wisdom. "I guess not," he says, prompting Mona to smile, in triumph or relief or some mixture of the two. "But I don't know what to do. How am I supposed to help her when she won't let me anywhere near her?"

Mona holds up her hands in a gesture of helplessness. "That's getting out of my realm of experience. But you're a good guy, Toby. I think you'll find a way."

He lets this sink in, and then he smiles back – weary, hesitant, but genuine. "Thank you, Mona."

She dips her head in acknowledgement, and they share a moment of companionable silence. Then a sound starts up at the other end of the hall – footsteps, coming towards them. Toby is instantly on alert, and even Mona looks puzzled. But they relax at once when the person behind the footsteps becomes visible.

Aria is walking quickly, like she's scared of being in the halls when it's so dark – or maybe she's just in a hurry. When she reaches them Toby notices she looks flustered, and before either of them can speak she shoots an apologetic look at Mona and asks, "Can I talk to Toby for a minute?"

"Of course," Mona says graciously, rising to her feet and stretching luxuriously. Then she meets Aria's eyes and asks gently, "How is she?"

Aria hesitates, then says, "She'll be okay."

That's seemingly a satisfactory answer, because Mona just nods, bids them goodnight, and disappears down the hall.

"What is it?" Toby asks. Aria looks anxious, and he's worried something even worse has happened to Spencer. Or maybe someone misinterpreted what happened back there, and he's about to get in trouble for 'attacking' her.

"It's Spencer," Aria says, and Toby momentarily forgets how to breathe.

"What happened? Is she okay?"

"She's fine," Aria says quickly, but there's something beneath her words, something less certain, like she's holding something back. "She's in the nurse's office."

"And?" Toby prompts, knowing there's more to the story.

He's not sure what he's expecting, but whatever it is, it's not what Aria says.

"And she wants to talk to you."

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**As much as I love writing A-Team Mona, I also adore writing this side of her (heck, I just love her, period). Also, anyone catch a reference?**

**Next chapter will be the Spoby conversation I promised you long ago, and to keep you going until next week, here's a little teaser:**

_"Spencer, you don't have to apologize -"_

_"I do," she interrupts, looking only the slightest bit embarrassed to be talking over him. "And I need to explain."_

**All right, that's it for me. Please review to let me know you haven't given up on my story, and I'll see you all next week! :)**


	19. Admission

**You guys are honestly the best. It means more to me than you know that you were willing to wait for me, and for my writing. You're all so fantastic I wish I could update every day just to keep you guys happy. Unfortunately I can't, but you guys have been so patient and understanding, and I really appreciate that.**

**Shoutouts: to .Dusk for getting the 'smart smart' reference, and also for being so sweet and welcoming; to Sarah, for calling me one of your favorite authors (I cannot even explain how much I smiled at that); to BirdSingsBells for the image of a 'happy dance' and for picking up on my insecurity (although 'a little insecure' may be an understatement, but hey, you guys like my writing, so that's something); to SpobyTreegan for such a heartfelt review and using the phrase 'bloody hell' (you're a legend for that); and to insertnameherex and spoby equals awesomeness for correctly guessing who was at Spencer's door a few chapters back.**

**Even if I didn't mention your name here, rest assured that I did read your review, probably smiled like a fool doing it, and that I am so grateful to have readers like you. Now, I had about twenty reviews last chapter - so here's a challenge. Get me to 300 reviews in the next two chapters (ie by the end of chapter twenty) and I'll... well, you'll just have to trust that I can come up with a good reward (if you have any suggestions, hit me, I'm open).**

**Anyway. Enough rambling. Here's what you're all here for. Enjoy, and review. :)**

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"Really?" It's not the most eloquent way for Toby to express his bewilderment, but it's all he can manage.

Aria doesn't answer right away, and Toby has the feeling that she's biting back some kind of sarcastic response. "Yes," she says at last, with only a slight eye-roll. "Unless you don't want to?"

"No," he says quickly, standing up and starting to move down the hall. Aria keeps pace with him; his feet are moving only slightly slower than his heart, and he can't help but feel like if he doesn't get there fast enough Spencer will change her mind, declare that she never wants to see him again.

They come to a stop outside the door. Toby goes to open it, but Aria nudges his hand out of the way. "I should go in first," she says delicately.

Of course. After how Spencer reacted back in the other room, it probably wouldn't be wise for Toby to go in first. He nods, stepping back and waiting for Aria to open the door.

"Hi," Aria says softly, and Toby can hear Spencer mumble a response. "I found Toby. Do you want me to -?"

Aria waits a moment, then nods and steps back, pushing the door open wide enough for Toby to be able to go through.

"Go on in," Aria says to Toby, and then to Spencer, "I'll be right outside."

With an appreciative smile at Aria, Toby slowly walks through the door, not sure what to expect. Spencer is sitting on the nurse's bed against the wall, gently swinging her legs back and forth, her eyes downcast and her posture tense. She looks up as he enters, and he comes to a stop as her eyes meet his. In that one look she manages to apologize and ask for forgiveness, and in a heartbeat he complies.

He takes a couple of steps, then turns to close the door. At the last second he turns back to Spencer. "Do you want me to leave it open?" he asks; the last thing he wants is to make her feel trapped.

She shakes her head, her hair falling into her eyes. "No," she says, tucking her hair back behind her ears. "You can close it. It's okay."

He does so, and then carefully sits in a chair opposite her. In the silence that follows he looks around the room, taking in the pale pink curtains on the window, the small bookshelf filled with books on first aid and some on knitting (apparently the nurse gets bored between patients), and the suspicious stains on the floor by his feet. He shifts his position so he's further away from said stains, and then looks up at Spencer. "So… you wanted to talk to me?"

He wishes he had something better to say; something witty, or comforting, or at least something that would cover up his anxiety about the whole situation. But the most he can do is stop his voice from shaking, and try to keep his heartbeat under control as he waits for her to reply.

Spencer is playing with the frayed edges of the sheet, tugging at one until it comes loose and starts to unravel. "I'm sorry," she says, so softly that for a second Toby thinks she's actually talking to the sheet. "For what happened back there," she adds, finally looking up at him.

Toby can't even remember the last time anyone apologized to him, and he's not entirely sure how to react. He knows that he wasn't angry with her – he was confused, and hurt, but he was never mad. What he doesn't know is how to express that to her. He settles for, "It's fine."

"No." Spencer sits up straighter, folding her hands in her lap to stop herself from fiddling. "It's not."

Again, Toby is reminded of that disastrous fishing trip with his father. When the doctors had explained his injuries to him, all the words had made sense but it had been difficult to piece them together, to join them in any kind of meaningful way. He'd stared at them for a full minute before he'd finally been able to understand what they were trying to say, and he feels like that now. Spencer seems to feel bad about what happened; is this her way of telling him that it wasn't his fault? Or is she trying to say that things between them aren't fine, that their friendship is over?

"What happened back there…" She gestures towards the main hall with a slight grimace, like the memory pains her. "I'm sorry."

"Spencer, you don't have to apologize -"

"I do," she interrupts, looking only the slightest bit embarrassed to be talking over him. "And I need to explain."

She pauses, looking at him as if asking for permission to speak. He nods, encouraging her to go on, and she takes a deep breath, forces herself not to look away, and starts.

"The other day, your sister paid me a visit," she says slowly.

Toby tilts his head, confused. Then it clicks, and the realization is accompanied by a fierce wave of anger. "Jenna? She came to see you?"

"Yeah. She came to my house, and said she wanted to talk."

"Oh god." Toby leans forward, covering his face with his hands. Jenna is manipulative at best, and she can even be dangerous – he knows that better than anyone. The thought of her alone with Spencer, weaving her web of lies and trying to twist her thoughts, makes him feel sick. "What did she say to you?"

"She… she told me to stay away from you," Spencer admits.

The words trickle through Toby's mind, running thick and fast with implications. If Jenna had talked to Spencer and warned her against talking to Toby – well, that would explain why she had been so reluctant to be anywhere near him. But she's talking to him now, which implies that she isn't going to let Jenna bully her… unless this is just for her to say goodbye, and this is the last time they'll talk.

"And you did," Toby points out quietly. There's nothing accusatory in his voice, but he's still worried it will make Spencer defensive. If he weren't so hurt he probably wouldn't say it, but on top of Spencer pushing him away, he now has to deal with the knowledge that Jenna is once again interfering with his life – and it makes him bolder and more open than usual.

Spencer lets out something that sounds somewhere between a sob and a gasp, and he feels bad at once.

"I'm sorry," Toby says quickly, making a mental reminder to be more careful with his words around her. "I didn't mean it like that. I just meant… why are you talking to me now? If you decided to listen to her and stay away from me -"

"I didn't." Spencer has stopped swinging her legs, and now she's deathly still. Not even her eyes are moving; they're locked onto Toby's, and even though he's trying to stay in control, he feels like he's getting lost in them. "I just didn't want Jenna to see us together. The things she told me… She really doesn't want you to have a life. I got the feeling that she wanted to – to control you. Or to alienate you, or something. She kept telling me that you were hers, that I didn't know you, that I shouldn't go near you. She said that I could never understand what you've been through, and that I shouldn't try. It seemed like… I think she's in love with you, Toby."

He leans back again, exhaling slowly. His past with Jenna is complicated and full of things he'd rather not talk about – and yet he feels compelled to open up about it now. "She is," Toby says, expecting Spencer to wince or make some excuse to leave. Instead she nods slightly, unsurprised. "She actually told me that herself a couple years ago. I thought her time away in Radley would have… changed her. I'd hoped that when she came back she wouldn't feel the same… well, actually I hoped she wouldn't come back at all. But she did, and she hasn't changed. I don't even think she's capable of it."

"Some people aren't," Spencer says, in a voice that makes him feel like she's not just talking about Jenna. During her explanation her eyes had been fixed on Toby, intent and almost unsettling, and although she hasn't broken eye contact, she seems further away, her expression more distant. Toby gets the feeling that they're creeping closer to the one thing she refuses to talk about: her past.

"So she warned you to stay away from me," Toby muses, hoping to draw her away from her past and back into this conversation.

"I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to stop talking to you, but Jenna… she threatened me. She said that if she caught us talking, she wouldn't just take me down – she'd take it out on you too." Spencer's voice has been trembling, like she's trying not to cry, and Toby would like nothing more than to be able to hug her. But even though he now has an explanation, and knows that he didn't do anything wrong, he understands that he still needs to keep this space between them.

"Spencer," he says, trying not to notice the way she blinks back tears. "I'm sorry Jenna said that to you. She had no right to – she shouldn't have talked to you at all. I shouldn't have let her go near you."

"You're not blaming yourself, are you?" Spencer asks, her voice serious but also slightly teasing. "Toby, this isn't your fault. I wasn't trying to punish you, or push you away… I just didn't know how to placate her, other than to just do what she said. It was never meant to be a permanent solution; it was just meant to be until I figured out a way to get around Jenna."

"You're talking to me now. Does that mean you've found a way?"

Spencer bites her lip, shakes her head, and looks more vulnerable than Toby has ever seen her. "No. I just didn't want you to think you'd done something wrong. The way you looked tonight… I realized how much this was hurting you. You've been nothing but welcoming and friendly to me, and this was no way to repay you. Regardless of your crazy stepsister, you're my friend. It wasn't fair to keep pushing you away."

Toby sorts through her words in his mind, tries to find a way to respond. He's grateful she's taking the time to explain, relieved that none of this was his fault, furious with Jenna for messing with his life, and about a hundred other emotions he can't even begin to identify. "Thank you for telling me," he says after a while. "I was… I did think maybe I'd done something. It hadn't even occurred to me that Jenna had interfered. But I can't tell you how relieved I am that… well, that it wasn't your idea to stop talking to me."

"I like talking to you," Spencer says, with the closest thing to a smile that Toby has seen her give in days. "And I'm not going to let Jenna come between us. We just need to work out a way to stop her from getting in our way."

"Speaking from experience, that's easier said than done," Toby says grimly, but he can't help but feel a flicker of excitement. Spencer still wants to be his friend – she'd even used the word _friend_. He's not sure why, but that means a lot to him. He could never have imagined that he'd want to be anyone's friend so badly, or that he'd be so upset when he thought it was over. But Spencer is different, and he wants to get to know her.

"Well, we'll work it out," Spencer says, her confidence dampened by tiredness that's creeping into her voice. "In the meantime, I have something else to apologize for."

Toby's heart skips a beat; this doesn't sound good.

"Tonight," she says hesitantly, choosing her words carefully, "when I… when I woke up – you were there, weren't you?"

He nods, wondering if she honestly didn't remember that he'd been there, or if she's just double-checking.

"And I… I pushed you away. I didn't mean to. I just… something you said; someone else said it to me once. I'd just woken up from a nightmare, and I was still pretty out of it… and hearing those words again made me freak a little. So, I'm sorry I reacted the way I did."

"It's okay," Toby says, trying to ignore the fact that he'd been overanalyzing and overthinking since it happened. "I don't know what you've gone through, and I know you're not ready to talk about it…"

"I think I am," Spencer says, her words barely above a whisper.

"W-what?"

"I think," Spencer says slowly, as if she can't quite believe she's saying it, "that I might be ready to talk about it – some of it, anyway."

Toby is so caught off-guard by this sudden reversal, from her not being able to look him in the eye to her being willing to talk to him about her past, that he's not sure what to say. "I… if you want to talk about it…" He takes a deep breath, and finally asks the question he's been dying to know since he first met her. "What happened to you?"

Spencer wraps her arms around herself, giving him a measured look, and Toby wonders if she's rethinking her idea to open up to him. Finally she says, with a little laugh, "How much time do you have?"

He smiles, and to his surprise she smiles back when he says, "I've got all night."

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**How'd I go? Satisfied your Spoby cravings for a while? Looking forward to reading more? Next chapter will be from Spencer's POV, so you'll get to see a bit of what's going on in her mind. See you there. ;)**


	20. Reveal

**Okay, this A/N might be kind of long, but PLEASE read. I have a lot to say.**

**First. I love you all. So much. Your reviews mean the absolute world to me. Shoutouts to: ****Spobyistruelove**** for the amazing compliments; to ****K**** - your time is precious and I'm honored you choose to spend some of it with me and my story; to ****Spobyficstalker**** for your sweet words and enthusiasm for my writing; and to ****poisonnwine**** for your general loveliness and for calling yourself one of my fans, that legitimately made my day.**

**Now, I have a favor to ask. If you guys can, I would really recommend reading (and reviewing!) the story ****_Put It Back Together Again_**** by ****elanabee****. It's a Spoby story with some Spezra, and definitely worth reading; it's so detailed and heartbreaking and I would highly recommend it. So go read and review, you won't regret it. It deserves way more recognition.**

**Finally, rewards. I have a nice little surprise for you guys if you get me to 300 reviews by next chapter (so that gives you a week from today); I'm excited (and nervous) to share it with you, so try to get me there. And I've decided, for every review I get ****_over_**** 300, I will answer one question about this story (or about anything really, but I assume that's what you guys are most interested in). So if I get to, say, 305, that's five questions I'll answer. 310, that's ten. So leave your questions in your reviews, and if I get over 300 (not sure I will, but just in case) I'll go through and choose which ones I want to answer. Also, some of my other stories aren't getting as much love as this one, even my other Spoby one, which makes me kind of sad; so if you have some spare time, I'd be flattered if you went and checked out some of my other works. Who knows, if I get enough reviews on those I might be persuaded to give you a little teaser for this story.**

**Whew. I think that's all I had to say. I reached 50 000 words on this story the other day (pre-writing), which honestly amazed me; I never intended it to be this long. But I've kind of fallen in love with Spoby, and you guys have fallen in love with my story, so I'm happy to keep going as long as it takes for it to be told. And now. Here is the moment you've all been waiting for. You're about to find out what happened to Spencer. Brace yourselves. See you on the other side.**

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Spencer is painfully aware of her heart pounding in her chest. It's beating even faster than it had been when she'd woken up from the nightmare earlier, and she feels more anxious than she had when she'd realized she pushed Toby away. She can see him watching her, waiting for her to talk, but the words are catching in her throat. She remembers this feeling from when she used to go to therapy, but it's different now; back then it was all about staying in control and keeping quiet. Now, though, the anxiety stems from the fact that she knows she's going to open up to him. She can control what she says, but not how he reacts, and that makes her nervous.

But this is Toby, she reminds herself. He's been nothing but kind to her, even after she pushed him away. He brought her into his group, shared his world with her, helped her make friends. And here he is, waiting patiently in the middle of the night just to hear her story.

"His name was Wren," she says suddenly, startling both herself and Toby, who glances up sharply, his eyes urging her to continue. "He was… a family friend. I'd known him for a couple years, and then…"

Each word feels like glass on her lips, and she finds it hard to keep going. But now that she's started, she knows she has to get through as much of her story as she can.

"About three years ago, I was walking home, and he… he jumped me. He had chloroform or something, and the next thing I knew I was waking up in the middle of nowhere."

She pauses, looking at Toby. His expression is soft, gentle, and it makes her want to cry. She looks away again, biting her lip, and carries on.

"He kept me there for almost a year. I t-tried to escape, but he – he stopped me. Finally I managed to… to get out. The police saved me and arrested him, but…"

The pressure of her words is threatening to smother her, and she's worried she'll take Toby down with her. The last thing she wants to do is hurt him; she needs to take control of this conversation again, steer it back to safer waters.

"I still have nightmares," she confides. "They're not as bad as they used to be, but tonight… When I woke up, and I saw someone there, I freaked. For a second I was back there, and I didn't… I couldn't…"

To her embarrassment, the tears have started. She tries to wipe them away, but they're coming too quickly. She hasn't spoken about this with anyone, and even though she's only skimmed the surface, it's too much. She buries her face in her hands, half-expecting Toby to be appalled by this show of emotion. She hears movement, and assumes that it's Toby leaving, too uncomfortable by her outburst.

But a second later she feels pressure on the bed beside her, and she peers through her fingers to see Toby sitting down, giving her a sympathetic smile. She's so taken aback that all she can do is stare at him as he carefully extends his hand, reaching for hers. She tenses, but as soon as his hand touches her she finds herself relaxing. He wraps her hand in his, and she gives him a weak smile to let him know she appreciates it.

"Thank you for telling me," he says, leaning slightly forward as if he's about to hug her. He pulls out at the last moment, unsure of himself.

But he's so open, so inviting, and Spencer needs something, someone, to comfort her. She finds herself leaning into him, resting her head on his shoulder, barely touching his skin and ready to move at the slightest indication. But after only a brief hesitation he wraps his free arm around her shoulder, bringing her closer to him. She closes her eyes, trying to steady her heartbeat and her breathing, and stop the flood of tears.

It takes a long time, but eventually she stops crying. Even then she stays still, leaning against Toby's muscular shoulder, feeling strangely… safe. Finally she sits up again, wiping away the last couple of tears.

"Thank you," she murmurs. She wants to say more, to apologize for this, to convince him that she's not always like this, to tell him that she's never talked about this before. But, somehow, she thinks he knows. She gets the feeling that he's curious, and she wants to be able to tell him more about what happened; but this is already too much for her to handle, and if she starts up again she may not be able to stop crying. And that's the best case scenario.

Once he's sure she's okay, Toby moves his arm from around her neck and goes to let go of her hand. But as his fingers uncurl Spencer squeezes his hand, unwilling to let him go. She'd forgotten how much she missed human contact. Her family was never big on PDA, and even Aria and Emily have kept their distance from her. But maybe this is exactly what she needs. Toby smiles, squeezing back, and she knows he understands.

They fall into silence, and all Spencer can focus on is the fact that her heartbeat has slowed right down. She feels almost calm; she hadn't known that would be possible, given what she's just been talking about. But Toby makes her feel safe, and she's almost glad she opened up to him. After a while she notices that he's searching for something in his pocket. She frowns and asks, "What are you looking for?"

He stops moving, his hand still in his pocket. "It's nothing," he mumbles, seeming embarrassed.

Spencer tilts her head, trying to decide whether it's worth pushing it. But her expression seems to be enough, because Toby shakes his head slightly and explains.

"I have this… souvenir that I carry around," he says. "You may have seen it. It's just a piece of wood, but it… well, it's significant. And that reminds me that I actually gave it to my partner earlier, so that explains that."

"A souvenir?" Spencer echoes. "Of what?"

Normally she wouldn't be so openly inquisitive, but having just revealed something so personal, she doesn't feel so bad asking for information.

"It's stupid," Toby mutters, but his resolve doesn't hold up long. "I've been carrying it around for about a year. It was… I got it the night Jenna got sent to Radley."

Spencer waits for a few beats, wondering if he's going to keep going. When it's clear that he isn't, she says, "I heard about that. Didn't she try to…?"

"Kill herself?" he finishes. "Yeah. And she tried to make it out like it was my fault. She said I'd… I'd been forcing myself on her. So the night she tried it, that was when my dad found out what had been happening – or rather, he found out her side of it. He found her in the bathroom, and when the ambulance got there he stormed into my workshop…"

He stops again, and Spencer notices how much of a role reversal this is. Just minutes ago she had been the one having a breakdown, but now it's Toby stumbling over words and barely able to control his breathing. Her grip on his hand tightens in an attempt to give him some of the comfort he'd given her. It's enough to get him to keep talking, although he still seems unsure of himself.

"I was working on my chair at the time. My father stormed in and started yelling, asking how I could do this, asking what the hell was wrong with me. I had no idea what was going on, which seemed to make him even more furious. He was so angry he almost hit me; he had me pinned up against the wall, his fist raised… he came to his senses just in time, shoved me away, and grabbed the first thing he found – it was a little figurine I'd been carving out of wood. He smashed it, told me never to go near my stepsister again, and slammed the door on his way out."

"And the piece of wood… it was from the figurine?" Spencer surmises.

He nods. The more he talks, the more comfortable he seems to become with it, although she can still hear the hesitation behind every word. "It was the only thing that wasn't broken. I took it and put it in my pocket, and forgot about it for a while… but then I found it again, and I've been carrying it around ever since."

"Do you mind me asking why?"

He breathes out slowly, then says, "I keep it with me as a reminder not to… not to trust anyone. Not to let anyone get close. And not to let anyone ever make me feel as small as my own family did. When he was yelling at me, even though I knew I'd done nothing wrong, I felt guilty. I felt like I deserved it. It took a long time for those feelings to fade, and even longer for him to come close to forgiving me."

"Toby," she says gently, and he looks up at her. "I'm so sorry."

It's not as eloquent as she usually is, but the effect it has on Toby is instant and obvious. He looks away, and she thinks for a moment she's said something wrong; but then he places his free hand on top of hers, squeezes it, and says, "Thank you."

"I wish I'd known you then," Spencer goes on carefully. "When you were going through all that. Maybe I could have helped."

"I wasn't a very pleasant person to be around then," Toby says.

"For what it's worth, I think you're always pleasant to be around."

Toby smiles at the compliment, and she wonders how often it is that he gets complimented. He seems to appreciate it, but in a sort of distant way, like he's not sure he deserves it.

"I don't mean to pry," Spencer says, not sure how far she should take this, "but you said that Jenna told your father that you… that you…"

"That I forced myself on her," Toby supplies. "Yeah. She always threatened that that's what she would say if anyone ever found out about what was actually going on."

Spencer feels her heart breaking for him. She can tell he doesn't talk about this often, and she's honored that he's opening up to her. But the whole thing makes her unbearably sad; he's so sweet, and it hurts to think of anyone taking advantage of him.

"Was she… was she forcing herself on _you_?"

Toby flinches, and she thinks she's gone too far. Then he nods and says, "She had ways to make sure I kept quiet. She warned that if I ever told anyone about it, she'd make it seem like I was the one at fault. And I knew she'd follow through on it. I didn't want her to… but I didn't know how to stop her."

Spencer started out this conversation being self-conscious and terrified of opening up, but now she finds that the tables have turned and she's the one comforting Toby. "I'm so sorry," she says, wishing she had the words to take away his pain. But she knows from experience that there are no magic words, no quick fixes, and the only thing she can do is be there for him. If she were bolder she would tell him more about what happened to her – about what Wren did, and about how she's still dealing with the aftermath. But her courage is running thin, and she's said as much as she can say.

There's a knock at the door, and Aria calls out, "Are you guys okay in there?"

"We're fine," Spencer responds, not taking her eyes off Toby. Something feels different now, and in a good way. The tension that Jenna caused is not quite gone but fading fast, and she can relax just a little bit.

"We should probably get going," Toby says, gesturing toward the door and giving the impression that he'd much rather stay.

"Yeah," Spencer agrees, feeling the same. She would prefer to stay in this quiet room with no one but Toby; going back out there with all her inquisitive peers and the questions she won't be able to answer seems impossible.

"Come on," Toby says, getting to his feet.

She follows his lead. He takes a couple of steps, then turns back and holds out his hand. With a shy smile she takes it, feeling his hand wrap around hers; but it's more than just the physical feeling. It's the knowledge that he's there for her. That he knows part of her story and he's still by her side. That he opened up about his own past and trusted her not to turn away. It's the only reason she can walk out of the room with her head held high, and face her peers with a smile even through the tears that threaten to fall with every word.

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